I'm a barefoot believer in drinking real moonshine and telling stories of the inspiring people I've met meandering the world.

I started writing as a child growing up in Sydney. They were riveting stories about koalas, volcanos, or our classroom's pet goanna, and my spelling and handwriting were spectacular. It seems fair that my English teacher gave me average marks for those early attempts. Still, as an over-thinker and introvert, writing gave me a form of self-expression, so I persisted. 

It wasn't until after I qualified as a lawyer and gained confidence from travel that I shared my writing with strangers. Living in London, I entered the Vogue UK Young Writer of the Year competition and was runner up; tasting the pleasure of being a wordsmith.

When I found myself living in Brazil and falling in love with a city and man who threatened to consume me, I wrote a diary to dilute the intensity of it all, which became the beginnings of my novel.

Fast forward to living in New York, and as a break from slaving over my manuscript, I wrote for magazines and newspapers. I became addicted to the rush of telling a story that might never have been articulated, let alone shared. It was my way of contributing to the world.

I've questioned my decision so many times since. I've certainly looked back, but I've never stopped writing and worshipping words. I've never stopped believing that they are our future, and more important than ever. And I will never stop trying to help sculpt what the future of publishing might be.