Like any reasonable young woman, at the age of 21, I decided I needed a formal education and a career. So in June 2004 one week after getting married, I started my undergraduate degree. And like any reasonable young woman who knows she’s going to eventually leave said career to become a mom I declared my major as Social Work. Being the environmentally conscious young woman that I am I rode the bus to school everyday that summer. One day while riding I pulled out my journal (I have over 40 documenting the most tedious details of my life) and began writing Snowflake Obsidian. To this day I’m not sure what possessed me to start telling my story. It took me two years to finish the book, and by that time I had started my graduate degree at the U of U. I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do with Snowflake so it sat, very respectfully, on a shelf collecting dust. I would pick it up from time to time and edit it, send it to friends and family to get feedback, ya know that old thing, but really did nothing else with it. At one point in time I was advised not to publish it because of how it might affect my relationship with my family. That’s when I really had to think about why I had written this book. The answer was clear, yes it was therapeutic, yes I wanted to entertain, but mostly I wanted to inspire. That’s when I knew this was a story I needed to share.