I must have been seven years old when I wrote my first book, All About Me, in Mrs. Beckta’s Grade 2 class. “I’m as loud as a firecracker, sharp as a whistle, quiet as a mouse,” I proclaimed in this riveting autobiographical debut. According to my mother, at that moment in time, I had plans to write a “chapter book,” but life had other plans.

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Fast forward to 2014, when my creative spark reignited during a trip to Porto, Portugal. There, I fell fast and hard for fermented grape juice (we all have our kinks) and a year later, I moved to the Lusitanian city to devote myself to wine. Inspired by Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey, I meekly started a blog called Bottled Bliss to chronicle my path from novice to whatever else lay ahead. As I pursued different opportunities, including a European Master degree in Wine Tourism Innovation and the WSET Diploma, a whole new world opened up to me. My childhood dream had long faded into the background—until life, with its poetic sense of timing, brought me full circle. In 2020, I published my first editorial piece and the rest, as they say, is history.

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Today, I am in love with the craft of writing and I believe it loves me back. Writing for me is like completing a jigsaw puzzle; it’s all about the process. Pieces come together at their own pace, sometimes snapping into place immediately and effortlessly. Other times—most of the time—you’re obsessing over that one missing piece to pull it all together. In short, there’s a lot of snacking involved.