As of Monday, June 24, it will have been three years since I published a book. I never really felt comfortable calling myself an author. Writer maybe, but author always felt like a moniker I didn’t deserve. Like I was making myself out to be something I’m not. Like I’m unworthy of that title. I’m just me. And now it’s been so long that I struggle to even call myself a writer. It’s not that the stories aren’t there… they come and go, hitting me at all these moments they used