Parenting, I’ve come to learn, is really a study in letting go.

Letting go of feeling kicks and hiccups behind your belly button. 

Of swaying and swaddling. 

Of carrying on your back and cutting food into tiny, mushy pieces. 

Of footy pajamas. 

Of tooth fairies and magic. 

This week, the last of the chicks graduates from elementary school, which means letting go of little desks and recess. Of glue sticks and safety scissors. Of teachers who stand in as surrogate mothers for six hours a day and read aloud stories they’ll always carry with them. 

It’s unbelievable, really. 

It was just yesterday, after all, when I walked sweet JoJo into her kindergarten classroom and watched her color a cartoon animal in messy, haphazard strokes through buckets of tears. My baby, going off to school. 

“She’ll be fine,” Hank said, rubbing my back as we left her behind. It felt like abandoning our young on the jungle floor.  

Now she drives to the high school, where she and her peers are pacing in the dugout, waiting to get called up to the big show, adulthood. Where Spike, our second-born, will join her next year. Two of our chicks – flying through the last years in our nest. 

The youngest carries the unique emotional weight of ushering in the lasts. And our baby, Sloppy Joan, an incredible empath, feels the magnitude of that weight. She notices it, tugging on me, pulling me into sadness. 

But as I keep telling her, and I have to remind myself, it’s OK. 

Mostly, we just have to linger in the gratitude. That’s what’s really feeding the melancholy. 

We have to be grateful for the patient bus driver, lunch ladies and recess monitors who got her where she was going, opened stubborn milk cartons and picked her up when she stumbled. When it was too high to jump, but she did it anyway. 

For the room moms and volunteers who crafted memories and helped her succeed. For the school nurse who poured her a little more 7Up even though she knew she was fine, because she sensed her sweet, sensitive soul needed just five more minutes of quiet. 

And for the teachers … my good gracious, the teachers! There isn’t enough money in the world to compensate the saints who are our elementary school teachers. 

Thank you for hugging, teaching, counseling, advising, correcting, comforting, confronting, coaching, inspiring, expanding and seeing my girls! 

Every parent sends their child into the world with a head and heart full of fear. Fear that they won’t be understood. That their wings won’t open. That the environment beyond our walls will break or bruise our little humans. But, because of you, they make it. They thrive. They grow. They soar. 

This week, we let go of elementary school. 

We let go of a beautiful, safe community we’ve loved for 11 years. 

But we let go with gratitude. So much gratitude.

Thank you. 

If your book club is on the hunt for a story that’s funny, heartfelt and full of conversation-worthy moments, my book, BLAZIN’ by Courtney Leach, delivers. This women’s fiction novel follows four best friends who take their midlife crises to the mountains of Georgia to section hike the Appalachian Trail. What starts as an adventure quickly becomes a reckoning, with nature, their bodies and each other.

Here are four reasons BLAZIN’ deserves a spot as your next book club pick:

1. The characters (and their struggles) are deeply relatable

Women in their 30s, 40s and 50s will see themselves reflected in the six unforgettable women at the heart of BLAZIN’. They’re overworked, underappreciated and constantly pulled in a million directions—by work, family and the relentless pace of life.

Each is navigating the quiet ache of feeling invisible, the fear that youth and time are slipping away, and the nagging question: Is this it?

Whether you’re a mother, a caretaker, a professional or a woman who’s simply tired of giving so much of herself to everyone else, BLAZIN’ captures what it means to lose your spark, and what it takes to reignite it.

2. It sparks thought-provoking conversation

The best book club books don’t just entertain, they make you talk, think and sometimes even disagree. The women in BLAZIN’ are real and flawed. They have long, layered histories with one another. Their love, resentment, loyalty and frustration are all tangled up in ways that feel incredibly real.

Each reader is bound to identify with a different character or choice, making BLAZIN’ a perfect catalyst for deep, honest discussions about friendship, identity, aging and what we owe ourselves versus what we owe others.

3. It’s a page-turning adventure

If Wild, Big Little Lies and Five-Star Weekend had a love child, it would be BLAZIN’. This book blends humor, heart and high-stakes adventure as the friends tackle unpredictable weather, physical injuries and emotional truths on the Appalachian Trail.

The mountains test them, but they also heal them. The story is full of sharp dialogue, touching moments and vivid wilderness scenes that make you feel like you’re right there, sweating, laughing and climbing beside them.

It’s the kind of book that keeps you turning pages late into the night, and then texting your friends to ask: “Are you at this part yet?”

4. You can support an indie author

We tend to see the same traditionally published books promoted on social media and in our feeds—and that’s awesome—but there’s something special about discovering a fresh voice outside the mainstream.

By choosing BLAZIN’ for your book club, you’re supporting an independent author who brings a new, authentic perspective to women’s fiction. It’s fun to find a story that hasn’t been overhyped, to read something that feels fresh, grounded and crafted with heart.

While I’m located in northern Indiana, it would be my absolute joy to join your book club via video chat or, if it’s close enough, in person, to offer my perspective on the characters, dialogue and twists and turns of BLAZIN’. You can contact me through my author site or social media. 

Ready to bring BLAZIN’ to your Book Club?

BLAZIN’ by Courtney Leach is currently available in ebook and paperback, through Amazon and barnesandnoble.com. 

Perfect for fans of: Elin Hilderbrand, Cheryl Strayed, Liane Moriarty and Katherine Center
Setting: The Midwest, the mountains of Georgia, along the Appalachian Trail
Themes: Friendship, midlife reinvention, resilience, self-discovery, divorce, marriage, motherhood 

Back in 2018, the world was a different place. My youngest was in preschool, the thought of a deadly, global pandemic seemed like nothing more than a Hollywood plotline and no one was labeling what “era” they were in. That winter, I innocently opened a Word document on my laptop and began writing a novel (my first) about four women doing a section of the Appalachian Trail.

The neglected work in progress, titled simply “Hike,” lived in the bottom right corner of my desktop like a set of dusty bookshelves. I tended to it here and there, when I had time to kill or came across it. It was fun, low-pressure. I was writing what I knew, having some experience on the AT, which you can read about here, here, here and here. 

But I never truly believed I’d finish it. No one would ever see “Hike.” 

Enter the lockdown. 

In 2020, like most of you, I found myself with significantly more hobby time on my hands. It was during those long, uncertain months that I really started sculpting out “Hike.” Who were these women? What events led them to venture into the Georgia mountains? What would come of their time in the wild? What was the tension? Would they make it out?

Then another twist. In November 2022, my dad got sick, and everything else in my life got very quiet. Every effort was either entirely necessary for the survival of my family or tethered to him. His hospital stays, his appointments, his progress, his setbacks, his weight loss, his disappearing act. The anticipatory grief, and then the actual grief.  

Dad passed away in July 2024, and I poured my pain into writing a fictional novella based loosely on my experience. Writing “He Answers to Grief” was the literary exercise I needed at a time when nothing cooled the incapacitating burn of our loss. And I have to say, the connections I’ve made through self-publishing that story have been an embarrassment of unforeseen riches. 

But, like the rest of my reality, the women of “Hike” were waiting. 

Armed with a better (not GREAT, but better) understanding of the indie author process, self-promotion and editing, I returned to Georgia in my mind. I enlisted more beta readers (see below), did more research and read every word until I could practically recite the thing. 

I gave it a name, “Puds,” and then renamed it “Blazin’.” 

And now it’s finished. 

What’s BLAZIN’ about? 

Helena Ward might be halfway through her life, which isn’t special. Just unsettling. Often, following a day of dealing with her busy family, lackluster career and the ceaseless conveyor belt of demands for her time, she stares up at the sky from her suburban neighborhood and wonders if where she is, is all there is.

When a one-two punch of unexpected news rattles her, it sparks an adventure. After much convincing, Helena takes her close circle of girlfriends for a section hike on the Appalachian Trail. In the Georgia mountains, led by their guide, Granola, they encounter punishing injuries, inclement weather and the unpredictable elements of human nature.

Throughout the roller coaster trek, with its turbulent rises and falls, the women confront the weight they carried onto the trail. They must decide what to shed and what to pack out when they return to the comforts and constraints waiting for them back home.

What inspired this story?

Certainly, my time on the AT with my husband, brother and friends was the initial spark, but BLAZIN’ is also a brutally honest look at what, I believe, many women feel as they approach middle age, overcommitted, exhausted and reflecting on the dreams they always assumed they’d get to one day.

Above all, BLAZIN‘ is a love story to my female friendships, each of which I believe makes me better and stronger in one way or another. There’s something magical about a group of women gathering, sharing and offering support. At 43, I’m approaching relationships that are nearly three decades deep, and when someone holds your history like that, it’s hard not to be inspired.

How can I support BLAZIN’?

Every time someone feels motivated to purchase something I’ve written, I’m humbled. Money and time are always tight, and your investment in my passion projects means so much, as do your stories of how you’ve gifted or shared my work with someone special to you.

If you enjoy BLAZIN‘, please consider leaving a review on Goodreads or Amazon. This is never expected, always appreciated, and a tremendous way to spread the word.

If you see something, say something! Often, I think people avoid telling me when they find errors out of fear of hurting my feelings. Believe me, I’d rather know and fix it than send these pages out into the world with a ridiculous rogue space or [gasp!] absent apostrophe. It’s a small operation here, folks!

Where can I get a copy?

BLAZIN’ is now available online, in ebook and paperback. This link will show you all of the retailers currently carrying the novel. I’m constantly updating these connections, so be sure to check back if you don’t see an option you like. (Some digital storefronts take longer than others, especially for print files.)

Special thanks …

To my incredible, generous, insightful beta readers, I know I’ll forget someone: MOM! Jackie, Sarah, Katie, Kim, Jacque, Stephanie, Natalie and Alyce. Plus, Ms. O’Reilly, my high school journalism teacher, who continues to help me improve as a writer and human 25 years later.

My dad read an early version of this novel, and I’ll never forget his feedback. “It’s really great. You need to edit down your descriptions.” Hope I tamed ‘em enough for ya, Dad. 

Nissa, for designing the cover and threading thoughtful ties back to “He Answers to Grief.” You make me look good, and I’m so grateful you’re willing to share your talent.

My Excel magician, ClaireBear. The numbers aren’t big, but they all have a place thanks to you!

I released “He Answers to Grief” on March 23. Since then, I’ve sold 130 copies and learned a lot about indie book publishing and myself. 

No. 1 – Marketing yourself is massively vulnerable 

I’ve been a professional writer for more than 20 years. During those decades, I’ve pasted my byline on more pieces than I can tally–some of which I’m proud of, and some I cringe to think about now. But a book is a different beast. 

No one gave me this assignment. I wasn’t tasked with a creative writing project or paid to put down 40k words on loss. This was an original concept, spawned from a life experience, twisted into a fictional novella and thrown out into the big, wild world on a whim. 

But because there is no larger vehicle to deliver this little book baby out into people’s feeds and retailer locations, it falls to me, the author, to spread the word to all those looking for a quick read and a good cry. And that is more challenging than I anticipated. 

I know marketing, that’s not the problem. It’s marketing myself that sits like spoiled milk in my tummy. Have you ever had to be your own hypewoman? It’s tough! Not to mention, Grief pushed me into the TikTok sphere, which is a whole thing. Am I crazy, or is everyone on there either crying, homesteading or pulling something out of their ear hole? It’s a lot of recycled soundbites and making coffee, sitting in cars. I’m still trying to figure it out. 

No. 2 – People are incredible

From the first drafts I sent to a few beta readers, I have been stunned by the support and kindness of the people in my life. Co-workers (former and current), acquaintances, family and friends have shown up for me in this way that no one ever feels they deserve, but we all need on occasion. 

When people started texting pictures of their books arriving–I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that they would–it made me cry. I was so nervous about the whole endeavor, but knowing there were others out there who were excited for me turned my terror into gratitude. What could feel better than another soul saying, I want to see what you did?

No 3 – It’s humbling to be seen 

That’s a good segue into this last bit. We’re all unique, intricate animals. What makes me tick is different than what makes you tick, than what makes your neighbor tick, than what makes your Aunt Fanny tick. When someone in your life takes a sliver of their precious time to learn about your particulars, and then goes a step further and celebrates them, it’s magic! 

I love a lot of things–nature, hiking, deep conversations, good people, baked goods, kayaking, fruity beers and sours, sunrises and sunsets–but writing is my passion. Always has been. And someone taking an interest and wanting to actually read and discuss something I’ve written is my love language. Words of affirmation and all that. 

I think it’s easy to forget how good it feels to be truly seen, and I’ve been gifted with some of the most generous reminders from some glorious human beings in the past three weeks. Texts and photos, reviews, emails, handwritten cards, hugs, calls. Being on the receiving end of your love and well-wishes has been a bouquet of beautiful Forget-Me-Nots. Meditations on the undeniable truth that seeing people matters. Understanding them matters. Saying, not just thinking, a sentiment is powerful. And having people in your life who will genuinely cheer you on is a gift. And I will never take any of it for granted.    

The Sunday I put the book out there, my youngest made a fuss. She had her dad take her to get a giant balloon and moved it to my bedroom so I would wake up every morning to Congratulations! She crafted paper hats and a banner with “He Answers to Grief.” She and her sisters baked cupcakes with whippy frosting. It was interesting. I didn’t feel proud until I saw the achievement through her eyes. (Even though there were five–yes, FIVE–mistakes in those first copies. If you have one of those, consider it a collector’s item.) I think we all fall victim to that. We don’t see a true reflection in the mirror. It takes someone else to hold up the glass.  

Thank you feels puny and entirely inadequate. I have been humbled by your readership and moved by your kindness. Sometimes, the scariest things are the ones that bring the most clarity. And my eyes are wide open to the amazing circle I have around me.  

The sucky thing about the subject matter is that we will all experience grief. If you are in it, my heart is with you, just as so many of yours have been with me and my family these past several months. We don’t have to be sad alone.