Mama. 💕 My favorite word.

I never did learn how to do anything halfway.

Neither did my mother.

She lost her mama when she was nine years old and somehow became the most devoted mom ever. 🏆

Through her example, moderation never stood a chance.

I breastfed my son until he was practically old enough to drive. (Fine. Three and a half. But old enough to drive a toy truck. 🚙)

I carried him everywhere because I’d convinced myself he was basically a Pygmy baby and we were trying to survive the cement jungle of Los Angeles. Other than for dog walks, I never put him down. 🐒

He slept in our family bed for years because baboons don’t put their babies in a different tree. Duh.🌴

And honestly? I thought that level of mothering instinct began and ended with my son and my dogs. (Always dogs.) Certainly not with actual grown people. 🐶

People seemed… exhausting. High-maintenance. I wasn’t a joiner. I liked my little world as a writer.

But life had other plans.

Because somewhere along the way, I became a mama for others’ dreams, too.✨

For storytellers carrying books in their hearts the way I once did. For people aching to create something meaningful and beautiful before they leave this earth. 🙏

Against many odds, helping other people bring their dreams to life fulfilled my own.

Most especially the dream I never even knew I had: connection.🤠

Real connection. Meaning. (Especially after losing my mom at 33.)

Turns out motherhood was never just about raising a child.

It was about learning how to love (& be loved) bigger than I thought possible.🚀

To be mama’d & to mama.

I love you. 🥰

Thank you for all these years—and the beautiful ones still to come.

May your day be filled with love. xo 💕 ...

Columbus, Ohio—feeling the library love 💛 My sister and bro-in-law texted me yesterday holding Beautiful Writers at the Columbus Library in Ohio (they’re the sweetest, tracking her down!), which got me thinking: We write our books from our kitchens, bed-offices, desks, hometown coffee shops—words flowing from our fingers in the comfort and safety of our familiar spaces. For me, Beautiful Writers was born mostly in Los Angeles, Carmel, and Scottsdale… and yet, it’s somehow found its way into readers’ hands in countless places I’ve never been or will ever know.

That will never not feel like magic to me. Wow, right? Think of all the places your books have gone—and will go. 🚙✈️🎆🚀🗿

Thank you, libraries. Thank you, readers. Keep going, writers. Your stories have traveling to do! ✨📚

#BeautifulWritersBook #BillAllenRad #CarolAllenBestSisterEver ...

Hoping this is good news! 🙏Rolled up & found out the hearing at the Sandra Day O’Connor US Courthouse in Phoenix (for the Heber wild horse hearing) has been vacated/canceled.

According to the @srwhmg, this could be really good news or really bad — we simply don’t know yet. It has not been rescheduled. 🙏😩🤠It appears the judge believes he has enough information to make a decision without holding the hearing. (Gorgeous building, by the way, Sandra! #sandradayoconnorcourthouse.)

Okay my homies! We ride at dawn. 🤠🙏😎🫶🐴 Love you, @trubynicole. Let’s go wrangle up some breakfast grub! ☕️🥚🍳🍳🥞🥗 #heberwildhorses #horsemama ...