I've been spinning stories since before I could write them down. One of my earliest memories is of worrying my babysitter because I'd gone quiet in a corner, lost in a daydream—my childhood nickname could just as easily have been “Earth to Leah.” The moment I had a keyboard and an email address, I started sending serial novels to my siblings and my best friend, beginning with a fantasy retelling of Robin Hood. They were my first audience, and I'm still grateful.
I grew up devouring fantasy. I loved J. K. Rowling like everyone else, but I found my true home in the worlds of Gail Carson Levine, Tamora Pierce, Mercedes Lackey, Christopher Paolini, C. S. Lewis, and J. R. R. Tolkien. All through high school I carried a fantasy novel everywhere and disappeared into it every chance I got.
I'm a dreamer, but I'm also stubbornly practical—the great paradox of my character. Wary of the starving-artist cliché, I went looking for a “real” career and landed on editing: if I couldn't yet live off my own writing, I could at least help shape other people's. At Brigham Young University, I majored in English language and minored in editing and modern Hebrew, started editing by my sophomore year, helped charter our chapter of what's now the LDSPMA, and spent a semester as editor in chief of BYU's science-fiction and fantasy journal, Leading Edge.
I followed that editing plan for seven years, reading and writing my favorite genre on the side, until I couldn't ignore the call any longer. At the start of 2023, as much as it terrified me, I left a secure, well-paying job to write full time. It turns out you can make a living as a writer; it just takes a lot—a lot—of hard work. So far, every bit of it has been worth it. I'm certain this is one of the things I was meant to do. So here goes everything.
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