This spring has been a whirlwind of inspiration, connection, and pure creative joy as 26 Seconds traveled with me to three extraordinary literary gatherings: the Tucson Festival of Books, the San Diego Writers Festival, and the LA Times Festival of Books. Each one offered its own magic, its own community, and its own reminder of why storytelling matters so deeply — not just to readers, but to all of us who believe in the power of truth, resilience, and shared humanity.
The Tucson Festival of Books was the perfect kickoff — vibrant, welcoming, and buzzing with readers who genuinely love discovering new voices. Being part of the Indie Pavilion was an honor, but what stayed with me most were the conversations. People stopped not just to buy a book, but to share their own stories of survival, loss, and hope. There’s something uniquely grounding about meeting readers who connect with your work on such a personal level. Tucson reminded me that memoir is more than a genre; it’s a bridge. And every person who crossed that bridge with me made the experience unforgettable.
From there, I headed to the San Diego Writers Festival, a celebration of craft, courage, and community. This festival has a special energy — a blend of emerging writers finding their voice and seasoned authors refining theirs. I was honored to participate in a panel where I shared a bit of my debut author journey. Being surrounded by my fellow authors who care deeply about words, structure, and the emotional architecture of storytelling was invigorating. It reminded me that writing is both a solitary act and a communal one. We write alone, but we grow together.
And then came the LA Times Festival of Books, a literary landmark in every sense. Walking onto the USC campus and seeing tens of thousands of people gathered simply because they love books is something I’ll never forget. The scale is massive, but the moments are intimate — a reader who tells you your book moved them, a young writer who asks for advice, a fellow author who becomes a new friend. The festival felt like a celebration not just of literature, but of possibility. It was a reminder that stories can shift conversations, open hearts, and spark change.
Across all three festivals, one theme kept emerging: connection. These are my people, I thought, connected by the profound impact of storytelling.
As I look back on these incredible days, I’m filled with gratitude — for the organizers who pour their hearts into these events, for the readers who show up with curiosity and compassion, and for the writing community that continues to lift one another up.
This season reaffirmed something I’ve always believed: stories don’t just entertain us. They heal us. They challenge us. They bring us together.
