There's a story behind this (of course there is!), and it starts with my own journey as a writer. 

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In 2021, just two months before I signed with my agent, I was sitting under a pile of rejections for my novel and essay work. Almost all of us have been there: staring at our inbox like it's a mirror reflecting our value as writers when we ALL know rejection (and waiting) is as much a part of the gig as typing.

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One day I'd had enough. I was sick and tired of sulking; sick and tired of waiting for things  beyond my control; sick and tired of not feeling good enough to call myself a writer. So, I pulled out my journal and wrote something down: 

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You already are. 

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You already are a writer because you write, and there is value in that alone. 

 

Now, I'd be lying if I told you that was enough and I was immediately cured of all of my self doubt. Sometimes I think my imagination takes up the space where my memory ought to be. This mantra of mine, and the iteration that followed--you already are, you always were, you still have time to be--needed weight. And when I found this 1876 Neumann (pictured right, and in my headshot if you look closely), I knew it was exactly what I was looking for.

 

You see, I'd read somewhere that carrying around an old metal key is a great way to tell the universe you're always open to opportunities, and in turn unlock your potential. 

 

It probably wasn't magic (though it's far more fun to pretend it was) but my life changed after that. I stopped waiting for permission to live my best creative life...and simply created. Soon, I'd passed the benchmarks I'd so desperately wanted and more. 

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Keys are a core part of my editing, teaching, and coaching philosophy--I've even gone so far as to mail them to friends, family, and clients as a reminder that their success isn't behind a locked door. 

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Yours isn't either.