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You Might Be a Writer If… You’re Chasing the Spark of Creation

You Might Be a Writer If… You’re Chasing the Spark of Creation

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 01/07/2026

Being an author isn’t just about putting words on a page—it’s about chasing the spark that turns ideas into stories that touch hearts. As the creator of Discovering Misty: The Mermaid of the Emerald Coast and George and the Brave Eagle, and a blogger who recently hit 1,048 visitors, I’ve learned that writers live in a world where imagination and purpose collide. If you’re wondering whether you’ve got that writer’s spark, here are some signs, tied to my own journey of crafting children’s books, growing my blog, and advocating for hope.

What Happens Next?

You’re Always Asking, “What Happens Next?”

You might be a writer if you can’t help but wonder what’s around the next corner of a story. Whether I’m walking along the Emerald Coast, where Discovering Misty was born, or brainstorming for George and the Brave Eagle, I’m constantly asking, “What happens next?” A seashell could inspire a mermaid’s quest, or a soaring bird could spark a tale of courage. If you’re always chasing the next plot twist, you’re a writer at heart.

You Rewrite the World to Make Sense of It

You might be a writer if you process life’s highs and lows by turning them into stories. When life feels heavy, I pour my thoughts into blog posts about resilience or craft scenes where Misty faces challenges with grit. Writing is my way of making sense of the world, and if you find yourself doing the same—whether through poetry, fiction, or a journal—you’re likely a writer, too.

People Watcher

You’re a People-Watcher with a Purpose

You might be a writer if you process life’s highs and lows by turning them into stories. When life feels heavy, I pour my thoughts into blog posts about resilience or craft scenes where Misty faces challenges with grit. Writing is my way of making sense of the world, and if you find yourself doing the same—whether through poetry, fiction, or a journal—you’re likely a writer, too.

You might be a writer if you study strangers in a coffee shop, imagining their backstories. I’ve built characters for Discovering Misty: Friends Forever by watching kids play at the beach or families share stories. Writers don’t just observe—they weave those moments into narratives that resonate. My blog often reflects these snapshots, connecting everyday life to bigger themes like hope and community.

You Fall in Love with Your Tools

You might be a writer if you have a favorite pen, a lucky notebook, or a laptop you treat like a trusted friend. My desk, cluttered with notes for my GoFundMe campaign for George and the Brave Eagle, is my creative sanctuary. If you get a thrill from the click of a keyboard or the smell of fresh paper, you’re part of the writer’s club.

You’re Haunted by Stories That Demand to Be Told

You might be a writer if an idea grabs you and won’t let go until it’s on the page. The story of George, soaring with bravery, or Misty, discovering her strength, kept me up at night until I brought them to life. If you’ve ever felt a story tugging at you, insisting it needs to exist, you know the writer’s calling.

You Find Joy in Reader Connections

You might be a writer if a single reader’s comment lights up your day. When someone leaves a review for Discovering Misty on Amazon or shares how my blog inspired them, it’s like fuel for my soul. Hitting 1,048 blog visitors felt like a milestone worth celebrating, and every interaction reminds me why I write: to connect, inspire, and spread joy.

You Write for Something Bigger

You might be a writer if your stories carry a deeper purpose. For me, it’s about more than children’s books—it’s about weaving hope and resilience into every page, a mission that ties to my advocacy for suicide prevention. Whether I’m sharing a blog post about family reading or a story about a brave eagle, I write to remind readers, young and old, that they’re not alone. If your words aim to lift others up, you’re a writer with heart.

You Keep Going, No Matter What

You might be a writer if you push through rejection, doubt, or the grind of promotion—like pitching Discovering Misty to bookstores or rallying support for George and the Brave Eagle. Writers don’t quit because the spark of creation is too strong. Even on tough days, I find myself back at my desk, writing a new blog post or polishing a chapter, because stories are how I make a difference.

If these signs feel like home, you might be a writer. Embrace the spark, chase the stories, and let your words light up the world. For me, it’s about bringing Misty and George to life, growing my blog, and sharing hope—one story at a time.

Created With Nightcafe

Created With Nightcafe

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 12/15/2025

Below is my Creation Listing for 2025. As you can see, I haven’t been using this tool very long, but I’m certainly enjoying it. The entries in the piece shows some of my books and yet-to-be published books of this year.

You can see Misty, the mermaid of the Emerald Coast, from my 2 children’s books of the same name. She’s chatting with 6-year-old George Washington and his buddy, the brave eagle.

Under that section, you’ll find the book cover for my Washington’s Fantastical Crossing, where he’s being watched by merfolk – I really hadn’t planned to write so many stories about merfolk!

The one at the bottom middle is part of my America’s Great Perfect Storm. The leopard and night-watchers are suggestive of Obama’s dream — more on that later.

The bottom left is from my YA speculative fiction, “The Covenant Fire”, a story about a team asked to locate and activate an ancient artifact, while avoiding the evil cabal chasing them to recover the artifact to use for their purposes. This artifact is meant to bring about the 2nd Resurrection and gather the Lost Ten Tribes.

“Pages Alight” is my forthcoming podcast on YouTube! Coming very soon.

creator.nightcafe.studio/creation/9P7SXN5m9VIVEBZ8XgHJ/my-2025-wrap

Thanks for reading!

Life in a Small Town

Life in a Small Town

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 11/16/2025

The essence of my life.

Contest: Write 150 words about your life in full; don’t give just parts of your life.

I was born in a small town. Story was my first language. I learned to read the rules in school and to rebel in books. Now they’re arrows pointing injustice and wonder.

I was married young and divorced younger but I learned motherhood would be an anchor in all storms of love. Then I was married for keeps.

Mother and foster motherhood came. Six boys, two girls, two angels, brave and funny. I learned to read my heart in their handwriting and put children’s books in print.

Misty a mermaid swam in my thoughts and cried for a tiara! Faith grew where my eyes met a portrait of Christ saying, “You are enough.”

I am a writer today scheduling social media posts, recreating like fireflies; still I believe stories can cross ice floes.

My life? Untidy, hope-full, windy, full of notes of beauty, sometimes heartbreaking and often rewriting manuscripts.

Narrative Nook Monday #3: Echoes of the Forgotten Shore

Narrative Nook Monday #3: Echoes of the Forgotten Shore

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 10/06/2025

Narrative Nook Monday: Echoes of the Forgotten Shore

Welcome back to Narrative Nook Monday, dear readers—a cozy corner of Family Circle 14 and S.M.Ulbrich Blog where stories unfold like whispers from the bayou, blending our Acadian and Cajun roots with threads of wonder and heart. Today, let’s dive into a tale inspired by the resilient spirits of the Gulf Coast, where the sea holds secrets and second chances. I call this one “The Lantern’s Promise”, a short story of loss, light, and the unbreakable pull of home. Pull up a chair, brew some chicory coffee, and let the words carry you away.

In the salt-kissed hamlet of Petit Rivière, where the Mississippi’s lazy fingers tangled with the Gulf’s restless waves, lived an old fisherman named Étienne. His days blurred into a rhythm of nets and knots, his nights into the hush of a widow’s solitude. Twenty years had passed since the great storm of ‘05 stole his Marie—not her body, mind you, but her spark—leaving him adrift in a world that felt as empty as the bay after a nor’easter.

Étienne’s boat, L’Étoile Filante (Shooting Star, though it hadn’t shot anywhere in a decade), bobbed forgotten at the rickety dock. He mended nets by lantern light now, not for the sea, but for the ghosts that gathered in the gloaming. Folks in town said he talked to shadows, but Étienne knew better: they were echoes. Marie’s laugh in the wind, her callused hands braiding his hair with tales of her Acadian grandmère, who fled the British expulsion in 1755, carrying only a locket and a song.

One fog-shrouded dawn, as the herons cried their mournful reveille, a stranger washed up on the shore. Not a man, exactly, but a silhouette stitched from mist and memory—a figure cloaked in seaweed, eyes like polished abalone shells. “Étienne LeBlanc,” it rasped, voice like gravel under keel, “you’ve kept my light too long.”

He froze, net half-mended in his lap. The lantern at his feet flickered, its flame dancing defiant against the damp. “Who are you to claim what’s mine?” he growled, though his heart hammered like a gator’s tail on tin.

The figure knelt, close enough for him to smell the brine and something sweeter—jasmine from Marie’s garden. “I am the Keeper of Lost Promises. Your Marie made one the night the storm came: to light your way home, no matter how far the tide pulls.” It extended a hand, palm up, revealing a tiny glass orb etched with Acadian fleur-de-lis. Inside swirled a miniature tempest, frozen mid-roar.

Étienne’s breath caught. That night replayed in his mind’s eye: Marie pressing the orb into his fist as winds howled, her lips fierce against his. “Keep this, mon cœur. It’ll guide you when I’m gone. Promise me you’ll live, not just survive.” He’d nodded, numb, and tucked it away. But grief is a sly thief; it had hoarded the promise like a miser with coins.

“Why now?” he whispered, the words cracking like driftwood.

The Keeper’s eyes softened, reflecting the lantern’s glow. “Because the shore forgets no one, but it tires of waiting. Sail out at dusk, Étienne. Follow the light to where her echo lingers.”

Dusk painted the sky in bruised purples and golds. Against the mutters of neighbors (“Old Étienne’s finally lost it”), he shoved off in L’Étoile Filante, the boat groaning like an old friend roused from slumber. The orb nestled in the lantern, its inner storm now a steady pulse of blue fire. He steered into the gathering dark, the Gulf a vast inkwell swallowing stars.

Hours bled into the velvet night. Waves slapped the hull like impatient lovers, and doubt gnawed at him—had grief conjured this madness? Then, a glimmer: not from the orb, but ahead, where sea met sky in a hazy seam. A chorus of lights bobbed there, faint as fireflies, weaving patterns that tugged at his soul. He leaned into the tiller, heart thundering.

As L’Étoile cut through the swell, the lights resolved into lanterns—dozens, hundreds—drifting on a hidden atoll, a crescent of sand veiled by perpetual mist. Figures moved among them, translucent as moonlit lace: souls unmoored by storms past, Acadian exiles and Cajun kin, waiting for their lights to be claimed. And at the heart, Marie—her hair wild as the waves that took her, her smile a beacon.

“Étienne,” she called, voice clear as a fiddle’s reel. She stepped forward, solidifying in the lantern’s warmth, her hand cool but real against his weathered cheek. “You kept your promise. Now let me keep mine.”

They talked till the stars wheeled overhead— of lost years, of the boys they’d never had, of the songs her grandmère sang to summon courage. The other lanterns brightened with each word, promises reignited, pulling their keepers home across the water. Dawn crept in, gilding the mist, and Marie pressed the orb back into his palm. “This isn’t goodbye, mon amour. It’s the light we carry together. Go build that garden again. Plant jasmine for me.”

He sailed back as the sun crested, the Gulf now a mirror of gold. L’Étoile Filante kissed the dock with a sigh of relief. The town stirred, eyes wide at the old man grinning like a fool, his nets abandoned for a shovel and seeds. That night, as jasmine bloomed improbably under his window, Étienne lit his lantern—not for ghosts, but for the living promise within.

And on fogged dawns thereafter, when strangers washed ashore, he’d share the tale: “The sea don’t steal; it lends. Just follow the light.”

What do you think, friends? Does The Lantern’s Promise stir echoes in your own heart—memories of loved ones, or the quiet strength of heritage that lights our way? Share in the comments below, or drop a line on Goodreads or Amazon. If this nook warmed you, curl up with one of my Zion Chronicles for more tales of trials turned triumphs, or revisit Discovering Misty for seaside magic that lingers. Until next Monday, may your own lanterns burn bright. Au revoir!

*~ S. M. Ulbrich*

(Word count: ~750. Inspired by Gulf Coast folklore and the enduring love in stories like Love You Forever.)

Thoughtful Thursday #1: How I’m Learning to Let Go of Perfectionism

Thoughtful Thursday #1: How I’m Learning to Let Go of Perfectionism

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 09/25/2025

Thoughtful Thursday #1: Five Endings Later: How I’m Learning to Let Go of Perfectionism

Picture this: it’s 2 a.m., my desk is littered with empty cups, and I’m staring at the fifth version of my novel’s ending. Each draft felt closer to ‘perfect,’ but never quite there. I’d change a character’s final line, then scrap the whole scene, convinced it wasn’t good enough. Hours turned into days, and I was stuck—paralyzed by the need for every word to be flawless. If this sounds like your writing life, you’re not alone. Perfectionism is the silent enemy of every writer, whispering that our work isn’t ready. But here’s what I learned after those five endings: chasing perfection can keep you from ever finishing.

The turning point came when I shared my latest draft with a trusted beta reader. I braced for criticism, but instead, she said, “This works—why are you still tweaking it?” Her words hit hard. I’d been so obsessed with crafting the “perfect” ending—a poignant, unforgettable close to my coming-of-age story—that I’d lost sight of the bigger picture. The ending didn’t need to be flawless; it needed to feel true to the story. That feedback snapped me out of my perfectionism spiral. I chose the fourth draft, polished it one last time, and considered it “done”. It wasn’t perfect, but it was done, and that felt like a victory.

Looking back, I realized perfectionism wasn’t just about the ending—it was a pattern. I’d agonize over every chapter, every sentence, afraid my work wouldn’t measure up. But rewriting that ending five times taught me a crucial lesson: progress trumps perfection. Writing is messy, repetitive, and deeply personal. Waiting for every word to sparkle risks stalling your momentum and silencing your voice. As Anne Lamott wisely said, “Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor.” Letting go of that need for flawlessness freed me to trust my instincts and actually finish my novel.

Frustration!

So, how can you break free from the perfectionism trap? Here are a few strategies that is helping me:

• Embrace the “crummy first draft”: Write without editing, even if it’s rough. Get the words out, then refine later. I set a timer for 20-minute sprints to keep myself from overthinking. (Learned that from the Pomodoro method; helps to alleviate fibro symptoms, as well.)

• Set a revision limit: Cap yourself at three rounds of edits per scene. After that, move on. This forced me to prioritize what mattered most.

• Get feedback early: Share your work with a critique partner or writing group. A fresh perspective can stop you from endlessly tweaking. (I surely miss mine in California; shoutout to Timespinners!)

• Celebrate “done”: Finishing a draft, even an imperfect one, is worth celebrating. Treat yourself to something small—a soda, a walk, or just a moment of pride.

Overcoming perfectionism didn’t just help me finish my novel; it made writing feel lighter, more joyful. I’m still learning to quiet that inner critic – and sometimes, it’s a real battle – but each step forward reminds me that imperfection is part of the creative process. Your story doesn’t need to be perfect—it needs to be told.

What about you? How has perfectionism shown up in your writing, and what’s one trick you’ve used to push past it? Drop your thoughts in the comments—I’d love to hear your story and keep this conversation going!

Shirley

Narrative Nook Monday #1: A Tapestry of Stories

Narrative Nook Monday #1: A Tapestry of Stories

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 09/22/2025

A Tapestry of Stories: My Journey as a Writer

Every writer has a moment when the world tilts, and the stories inside them demand to be told. For me, that moment came on a quiet evening, surrounded by the soft hum of Louisiana’s bayou country, where the air carries whispers of Acadian ancestors and the past feels alive. As S.M. Ulbrich, I’ve always been drawn to history—not just the dates and events, but the heartbeat of people who lived it, their struggles woven with threads of magic and mystery. This is the story of how I became a writer, a path carved by heritage, imagination, and a stubborn love for storytelling.

Growing up, I was captivated by tales of my Acadian roots, stories of resilience like those of Joseph Broussard, my direct ancestor on my paternal grandmother’s side, whose courage against all odds felt like a call to action. I’d pore over genealogy records, like the Drouin Collection, tracing names and imagining the lives behind them. Those names weren’t just ink on a page—they were people who faced exile, built new homes, and carried their culture across oceans. Their strength inspired me, and I wanted to honor them in my writing. But it wasn’t enough to retell history; I wanted to infuse it with the mystical, to let runes glow on the page and hint at deeper truths.

My first leap into authorship came with Discovering Misty: The Mermaid of the Emerald Coast, a children’s series born from a real-life character actor in Florida who enchanted kids with her tales. Writing for young readers felt like sharing a secret: that stories can spark joy, teach empathy, and build bridges between generations. I’d sit at my desk, petting my cat for calm, music humming in the background, and let Misty’s world unfold. Those books, now on Amazon, are my love letter to the kids who dream big and the families who read together. But they’re also a piece of me—a reminder of the girl who saw magic in the everyday.

Writing isn’t always smooth. There were manuscripts like George and the Brave Eagle and Washington’s Fantastical Crossing, still waiting for illustrations and funding, that tested my patience. There were moments of doubt, like when I rushed to meet deadlines before my husband returned home, or very late at night, as I was doing nurse duty for my foster kids, scribbling words for The Fading Light in a race against time. Yet, every struggle taught me something. The chaos of Hurricane Sandy’s aftermath in my Zion Series reminded me that stories, like life, thrive in the tension between hope and hardship.

What keeps me going is the connection—to my heritage, to readers, to the spark of a new idea. When I got an email from a reader community eager to discuss Misty on Goodreads, I felt the weight of my words landing in someone else’s heart. When I designed a vibrant Canva image for my Amazon author page or crafted a post for my blog, Family Circle 14, or this one, I saw my voice reaching further. Even now, as I weave runes into my historical fiction or dream up blog posts about creativity, I’m reminded that writing is my way of making sense of the world.

This memoir isn’t just about me—it’s about the stories we all carry. Whether it’s a tale of Acadian resilience, a mermaid’s adventure, or a rune glowing in the dark, I write to uncover the magic in the past and share it with you. So, here I am, still typing, still dreaming, still weaving my tapestry of stories.

What’s the story you’re carrying today?

Shirley

P.S. I’m excited to share that today I found 3 more manuscripts I’d written years ago, that I thought I’d never see again — 2 are part of the Misty series!

Unlocking Potential Through Early Reading

Unlocking Potential Through Early Reading

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 09/17/2025

Every baby is a treasure trove of potential. One of the most effective ways to help your little one thrive is to read to them daily. And remember, there’s no age too young to start! Even newborns can gain from early reading, benefiting their cognitive development and strengthening their bond with parents or caregivers.

As both an author and a parent, I believe it’s our duty to enhance individual lives by leveraging community power for collective well-being — and early literacy serves this purpose by laying the groundwork for better lives.

Here’s a guide to understanding the unique advantages of early literacy for your family, along with suggestions for finding free books to read to your infant or toddler.

The Lifelong Benefits of Early Reading

Does early reading correlate with academic success? A recent study from the American Academy of Pediatrics shows that reading aloud to your child from birth fosters essential language, literacy, and social skills, which often lead to greater achievements in school and beyond.

Our primary goal is to prepare children for the formal education environment — whether it’s public, private, or homeschool — with the skills necessary for success. By making reading a daily ritual, you set your child on a path to graduation and possibly higher education. Cultivating a love for learning and reading ensures your child’s journey of growth and discovery never ends.

Key Benefits of Daily Reading

Stronger Parent-Child Bonding
Reading aloud to your infant familiarizes them with your voice and brings comfort. As they grow, a regular reading routine provides a sense of stability that fosters trust. Devoting your attention during these moments creates intimacy and security, which are vital for healthy development. Moreover, discussing characters and stories can evolve into deeper conversations about real-life issues as they mature.

Expanded Vocabulary
Conversational language often differs from written language, which requires precision and a broader vocabulary to convey complex ideas. Early reading introduces infants and toddlers to a diverse range of words they might not encounter in everyday talk, setting the stage for a rich vocabulary.

Improved Speech Skills
Through your narration, your child absorbs your pronunciation and the rhythm of sentences. Babies’ brains are highly responsive, and the sound of your voice stimulates their language-communication areas. This exposure aids in understanding words and phrases they will hear elsewhere and helps them learn to articulate their thoughts clearly.

Foundation for Logical Thinking
While it may seem that logic is too advanced for infants and toddlers, early reading lays the groundwork for critical life skills such as problem-solving and reasoning. Following a storyline requires understanding cause and effect, time sequences, and decision-making, helping your child develop a framework for logical thinking that will benefit them throughout life.

Preparation for Writing Skills
As your child connects with you, builds vocabulary, and grasps language logic through your reading sessions, they are also gearing up for writing. Familiarity with books from an early age simplifies the writing process, as bright illustrations paired with text help them link images, sounds, and letters, making written language more accessible when the time comes.

Exposure to Diverse Ideas
A child’s imagination knows no bounds. One of the most remarkable benefits of early literacy is witnessing how they interpret stories through their unique perspective. Books can transport you both to different cultures, fantastical worlds, and extraordinary creatures, broadening their horizons and nurturing creativity.

Cultivating a Love for Learning
Perhaps the most significant benefit of early literacy is fostering a lifelong passion for learning. Sharing stories transforms education into an enjoyable experience, encouraging your child to continue exploring new ideas as they grow. When you demonstrate the importance of reading, your child learns to value it too, paving the way for a successful life.

Never Too Early!

Accessing Early Reading Materials

No one should face financial barriers to early literacy. Here are four ways to access reading materials for your child without spending a dime:

Public Library with Baby

Public Libraries
Libraries are invaluable resources, providing access to a multitude of books and other materials. Obtaining a library card is usually a simple process requiring just a photo ID. Librarians can assist you in selecting age-appropriate early reading materials.

United Way Imagination Library
Want free children’s books delivered to your home each month? The United Way Imagination Library does just that, at no cost. This program has already sent over a million books to children in Ohio. All you need to do is live in a participating county and have a child between newborn and age five. After signing up, your child will receive a special package in the mail each month, culminating in a delightful keepsake book to celebrate their journey into formal schooling.

Little Free Libraries and Book Banks
Inspired by his mother, Todd H. Bol created the first Little Free Library in 2009. These community book exchanges allow anyone to take or leave a book, and starting one can be a fun project for you and your child. Additionally, book banks, often supported by local organizations, provide free or low-cost books for children of all ages. Your local librarian can guide you to nearby resources.

Digital Books in Multiple Languages
While nothing compares to the tactile experience of a physical book, digital options can also be valuable, especially in bilingual households. Unite for Literacy offers hundreds of free e-books suitable for young readers in both English and Spanish, making it easier to introduce your child to a second language.

Passion for Reading

Ignite a Passion for Reading

By engaging with your child through the Library and other reading resources, you open their eyes to new worlds and ideas. Each book shared enriches their understanding of the world and their imagination.

Join us in creating a brighter future for all by investing in your family’s literacy journey today.

Shirley

Available at Amazon

Can We Really Follow All of God’s Commandments? A Fresh Perspective

Can We Really Follow All of God’s Commandments? A Fresh Perspective

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 09/14/2025

As the author of Discovering Misty: The Mermaid of the Emerald Coast and George and the Brave Eagle, and a blogger who recently celebrated 500 visitors, I’ve faced plenty of moments where life’s challenges made me pause and reflect. During tough times—whether juggling foster parenting, coordinating Overpassers for USA rallies, or pouring my heart into my next book—I’ve caught myself wondering, “Do I really need to follow all of God’s commandments?” If you’ve ever asked yourself this, you’re not alone. Let’s explore this question together, one word at a time, with a perspective rooted in hope and my journey of leading with heart.

How I See It

Here’s how I see it: God’s commandments aren’t a rigid checklist or a cosmic test we have to ace. Instead, I like to think of them as a loving guide from a Father who knows way more than we do. Imagine His wisdom as vast as the Emerald Coast’s horizon, stretching far beyond what we can grasp (like Isaiah 55:9 says). As a parent of two girls, five boys, and a foster mom to over 200 kids, I’ve learned that guidance isn’t about control—it’s about helping someone find their way. That’s what God’s doing for us.

Sometimes, we picture God holding back blessings, like they’re locked in a heavenly vault, only handed out if we follow every rule perfectly. But that’s not how it works. Picture this: God’s blessings are like a constant rain, pouring down with love. The problem? Our fears, doubts, or mistakes can act like an umbrella, blocking that rain from soaking into our lives. His commandments are less about restrictions and more about showing us how to lower that umbrella—stepping into the full shower of His grace.

Not Barriers but Paths to Peace and Joy

Take my time as a Cub Scout leader or managing 800 Scouts on our 25-acre LDS church park. Rules like “stay on the trail” weren’t about spoiling fun—they were about keeping everyone safe to enjoy the adventure. God’s commandments work the same way. They’re not barriers; they’re paths to peace, joy, and connection. When I write stories like George and the Brave Eagle, I weave in themes of courage and hope, reflecting how following divine guidance helps us soar, just like George does.

Overwhelmed?

For my audience—parents, book lovers, and those seeking light in tough times—the challenge is often feeling overwhelmed by expectations, wondering if we’re “doing enough” to earn God’s love. My approach? Start small. Pick one commandment, like kindness or gratitude, and lean into it with intention. In my blog, I share how small acts—like reading to a foster child or waving a flag for unity—build bridges to hope. Try it: reflect on one way you can “lower the umbrella” today, maybe by forgiving someone or taking a moment to pray. You’ll feel the blessings start to flow.

God’s not up there judging our every move—He’s cheering us on, ready to pour out love.

Just like I keep writing, one word at a time, to connect with readers and spread hope, we can follow His guidance, one step at a time, to live fuller lives.

How do you lower your umbrella to let blessings in? Share your thoughts below—I’d love to hear!

Shirley

Writing for My Audience: Crafting Stories That Connect and Inspire

Writing for My Audience: Crafting Stories That Connect and Inspire

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 09/12/2025

As the author of Discovering Misty: The Mermaid of the Emerald Coast and George and the Brave Eagle, and a blogger who’s thrilled to have recently hit 500 visitors, I’ve come to see writing not just as a craft, but as a bridge to hearts. Writing for my audience—fellow parents, aspiring writers, book lovers, and those seeking a spark of hope—means pouring my soul into words that resonate. In this post, I’ll share my journey of connecting through stories, addressing the common challenge of feeling like your words are echoing in an empty room, and offer my heartfelt approach to building that vital reader bond. Let’s dive in, one word at a time.

I remember the early days of my blog, when visitors were few and far between, and I’d wonder if anyone was truly out there reading. As a parent and leader in my community—from coordinating Overpassers for USA rallies to foster parenting over 200 medically fragile children—I’ve learned that leadership starts with showing up authentically. The same holds true for writing: my unique viewpoint is that every story, whether a children’s book or a blog post, is an act of service, spreading hope and resilience in a world that needs it. It’s not about chasing trends or algorithms; it’s about sharing the light from your own experiences, like the courage of a brave eagle or the wonder of a mermaid’s quest.

One specific pain point my audience often faces is the struggle to engage readers meaningfully—feeling disconnected, unsure if your message lands, or overwhelmed by the noise of social media. I’ve been there, staring at blank stats after posting about my GoFundMe campaign for George and the Brave Eagle, wondering if my words were making a difference. But here’s the truth I’ve discovered through years of scouting leadership and foster care advocacy: connection comes from vulnerability and purpose. Statistics show that blogs with personal stories see up to 300% more engagement (think of it like a campfire tale drawing everyone closer), and I’ve seen this in my own growth from zero to 500 visitors by weaving in real-life analogies, like comparing writer’s block to a foggy Emerald Coast morning that clears with the sun.

My approach to solving this? Start with heart-centered storytelling. First, know your audience like family—mine includes parents navigating tough times, young readers craving adventure, and folks touched by themes of suicide prevention. I use phrases like “spreading hope one heart at a time” to remind myself and them of our shared journey. Incorporate analogies from life: just as I led BSA campouts with 800 Scouts on our 25-acre park, organizing chaos into joy, structure your posts with clear sections (like this one) to guide readers gently.

Next, infuse expertise without overwhelming—I’m no formal academic, but as a former editor for the California State Foster Parent Association’s newsletter, I know the power of relatable language. Use technical terms sparingly, like “audience segmentation” to mean tailoring content for parents vs. writers, but always tie it back to emotion. Offer value: share free resources, like linking to suicide.ChurchofJesusChrist.org for those needing support, or tips on promoting books via Amazon.

Finally, end with action—invite comments, share your story, or check out Discovering Misty for a dose of inspiration. This builds community, turning readers into friends.

Writing for my audience has transformed my blog into a space of connection, much like the rallies where flags waved high for patriotism. If you’re facing that echo, remember: lead with your heart, share your truth, and watch the bonds form.

What’s one way you’re connecting with your readers today? Drop a comment below—I’d love to hear!

Shirley

Do You See Yourself as a Leader? My Journey of Leading with Heart

Do You See Yourself as a Leader? My Journey of Leading with Heart

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 09/12/2025

Do you see yourself as a leader?

As the author of Discovering Misty: The Mermaid of the Emerald Coast and George and the Brave Eagle, and a blogger celebrating 500 visitors, I’ve learned that leadership isn’t just about titles—it’s about stepping up to make a difference. When asked, “Do you see yourself as a leader?” my answer is clear: as a parent, I’m automatically a leader. But the scope of that leadership, shaped by my history, stretches far beyond my home, touching lives through advocacy, service, and storytelling. Here’s how my journey as a leader has unfolded and how it fuels my writing today.

Parenthood thrust me into leadership from the start, guiding my children with love and purpose. Raising two daughters and five sons, three of whom became Eagle Scouts and two who worked toward it, I took on roles like Cub Scout leader in the Boy Scouts of America (BSA). Those years taught me to lead by example, fostering resilience and teamwork—qualities I weave into my children’s books, like George’s courage or Misty’s determination. My leadership extended to managing our family’s 25-acre LDS church park, where we hosted 600-800 Boy Scouts each year for six years. Picture a week-long campout on your front lawn—tents, laughter, and chaos! Organizing those events honed my ability to lead with patience and vision, skills I now use to manage my blog and book projects.

Beyond family, I found my voice as a political leader with Overpassers for USA, serving as California’s representative. Coordinating rallies across the state to promote patriotism and free speech was exhilarating. Every weekend, my family and I stood on freeway overpasses, waving flags and signs we kept ready in our van. I helped build the organization’s website, listing rallies nationwide, and watching our movement grow filled me with pride. Those moments of unity and love for American values inspired the hope-filled themes in my stories and blog posts, where I aim to uplift readers young and old.

My leadership also shone in foster care. For over 14 years, my husband and I were medical foster parents in Sacramento County, caring for more than 200 infants and children, many medically fragile. We held the first baby in the county to pass from AIDS, loving him for all eight months of his life. That experience taught me leadership through compassion—a thread that runs through Discovering Misty and my advocacy for hope and suicide prevention. As Vice President of the Sacramento branch of the California State Foster Parent Association for seven years and Editor of its monthly publication for six, I led by amplifying voices and sharing stories, much like I do now through my blog and books.

Leadership, for me, is about impact, not position. Whether rallying for free speech, guiding Scouts, nurturing fragile lives, or writing stories that spark joy, I lead by showing up with heart. My blog, my GoFundMe campaign for George and the Brave Eagle, and my books are extensions of that leadership, inviting readers to find courage and connection.

If you’ve ever stepped up to guide, inspire, or serve, you’re a leader too—shaping the world one moment, one story, at a time.

Shirley

Overpassers USA