This is an odd title for this post, considering the content of this post is about some items I put inside a box earlier today.

My writing journey, thus far, has consisted of a great deal of luck and timing. Five years ago, when I had finished writing my first novel and had the grand notion of querying to find an agent who would help me traditionally publish, I eventually realized the traditional journey was not in the cards for me. I had been dealt an extremely rare hand, and I have been playing those unique cards to the best of my ability.

Having that new perspective has allowed me to develop a great friendship with my mentor, Neil, self-publish five novels, and think of creative ways to put my name out into the world. After a fortuitous double-booking in a volunteer spot, I was given the opportunity to reconnect with a friend I had not seen in a while. She is a fellow author, and a cottager in the area. During our chat, she told me a Canadian director has a cottage nearby, and she had seen him in the area on several occasions. She suggested I find a way to get my books into his hands, and that is what I have attempted to do.

While thinking outside the box today, I carefully packed a copy of each of my five books, a magazine article about my writing, and a carefully constructed letter into an actual box and mailed them to a local address with the hope this particular box will find this Canadian director. This act of fortitude may result in radio silence from the other side, but at the end of the day, I am happy knowing I tried something that was far out of my comfort zone with the hope of making a new connection.