Please Allow Me To Introduce Myself

AKA How I Ended Up Here

Hi, y’all!

My name is Olivia, and I have been creating content on Substack for a few months, so it’s high time I introduced myself. Whether you’ve been here a while or are new, welcome!

Awen’s Porch is the culmination of 60-plus years of living and twenty-five years of writing in earnest. Many more if you count the poetry, letters, journaling, and emails, plus all the fiction and nonfiction I devoured.

As a child of the ’60s and ’70s, I cut my teeth on the classics. I read every book I could get my hands on—from my local library and the one next town over. I can close my eyes and remember Mrs. Townsend, the purple-eyed librarian, peering at me intently, eyebrows raised, as she stamped the card for Animal Farm.

Bored with the books at my grade level, eight-year-old me had chosen one from the restricted section advanced stack. Adult-me thinks the librarian’s question was appropriate, though I’m glad she only said it with her face. As I read, I became appalled and uncomfortable, then outraged and saddened. I knew there was more to the story, something I could not fathom, though even at eight, I understood more than most.

I was a tomboy. And, yes, the term has fallen from favor, but I was. I rode horses, climbed trees, waded in creeks, and tussled with my brothers, though my quick wits and swift feet are what saved me most often. They still do, come to think of it, though most of my running now is metaphoric.

I was a cheerleader. Yes, pep and all. It kept me out of trouble—until it didn’t. I love learning and excelled in school. I just wish they hadn’t whitewashed the material. Now that the real story is finally coming to light, holy déjà vu—I am appalled, uncomfortable, and saddened once again, a la Animal Farm, Fahrenheit 451, and 1984.

Sadder still, as a retired 60-something melancholic semi-reclusive loner writer with anxiety issues, I shudder that like Montag’s wife, Mildred, in F451—I spend way more time with Brennan and Booth and Castle and Beckett than with real people.

That brings me back to Substack. Thank God for you. Y’all might be inside a machine, but at least you’re real people (bots notwithstanding). You give this mostly home-bound writer a focal point, a forum, a place to show up that isn’t my work-in-progress, a book, or television. Especially now that I’m staying off Meta.

SO, THANK YOU! Thank you for being here in conversation with me.

Now, to speed through my interim stats. I majored in business in college in 1981, got sober in ’91, earned my Doctor of Chiropractic degree in ’98, saw patients for 23 years, retired in 2022, and moved to Cheyenne, WY, of all places. And, yes, I am still sober.

In the early 2000s, my lifelong passion for words and reading prompted me to purchase my first laptop. I poured my heart into a memoir, only to lose it one month later when my brand-new hard drive crashed. Then, I wrote a children’s book/allegorical novel, Frank and Ernie Find Home.

A chick lit/women’s fiction novel was my first substantial work, written in 2010. And I found my voice by writing over 250 essays for That Rebel with a Blog between 2009 and 2012.

That’s when Awen and William’s story, the Awen Trilogy, grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. Y’all, I took to that project like a woman drowning. (Hint, hint, I was.) It took seven more years to write and publish Awen Rising, followed by another year for Awen Storm and then two more for Awen Tide. Between AR & AS, I stopped to write a prequel that begins millennia earlier in outer space (The Druids of Marduk, Parts I & II).

“Why?” you ask? I needed the backstory to complete the trilogy.

Now, I’m serializing the first novel in a series spun off from the Awen Trilogy. Crossed, Cursed, & Nearly Dead is a paid urban fantasy thriller. Read about it and the first chapter here:

Crossed, Cursed, & Nearly Dead

Crossed, Cursed, & Nearly Dead: E1, Chapter One - Two

I could tell you so, so, sooo much more. Maybe later, if you’re interested, I will. But this is running long, and I have a favor to ask.

I am on a mission to bring my unique fantasy and take on life to as many readers as possible. You and Substack can help me with that. My free subscriber base is slowly growing, and I’m excited about y’all being here. But Substack only recognizes publications with paid subscribers, and as of this moment, I have zero.

So I’m doing something wild and crazy. I’m offering you an annual subscription for $17—but only to you, my current subscribers. Or rather, those of you who have read this far.

Calculated monthly, that’s less than half the price of a regular coffee—to read all of my work, any time, including the upcoming paid serials, the posts going into archives, and whatever else goes behind the paywall in the future.

Will you help? My biggest birthday wish is for Awen’s Porch to be eligible for Substack recognition.

Your paid subscription will help bring my unique fantasy and life experiences to as many as possible—and that’s my mission. So, whaddya say? $17 a year in exchange for all that? Forever? Plus, my undying love? What a bargain.

By the way, my offer to everyone else isn’t bad either. Just not as good as your offer. It’s $25 a year or $2.50 a month. If you’d rather do that, jump on it!

So, now that you’ve learned a little more about me, did anything surprise you? Maybe shock you, even? I would love to hear your thoughts. Dish in the comments!

From my heart to yours, Olivia/O. J.

---