Hi, I'm Stephanie.

I've been writing romcoms since I was sixteen, back when my grammar was a mess, my characters were overly dramatic, and everything I wrote was buried in random notebooks.

That girl in my photo? Happy, clueless, and completely carefree. 

She had no idea what was coming.

Not long after that picture was taken, our family found out my dad had lupus. As a teenager, I didn't fully understand what that meant. To me, he was just in the hospital. He'd bounce back. 

But it happened too fast for my heart to catch up. 

We lost him, and I wasn't ready.

All I had left were his stories. His words, his imagination, his heart poured out on paper. And maybe that's why I never stopped writing mine. 

Because stories live on even when people don't. 

They can still make us laugh, cry, and hope, even long after heartbreak.

That, and the picture below. One of the few things I still hold onto.

I wasn't also the student with the high grades. I was the one always getting zeros on identification tests, scraping by because I could write an essay. 

That was the moment I thought, maybe, just maybe, I can write.

In 2014, I tried writing stories online. 

It was wonderful. I had readers, and they loved what I made. But then life happened. I had to graduate, find a job, and grieve a father I wasn't done needing. Updating stories became the last thing on my list, and I've never stopped regretting that.

I tried again in 2019, this time from Thailand, where I had a stable teaching job and a quiet life. I thought my readers would wait for me. But life had happened to them too. They grew up, moved on, found other authors. I couldn't blame them. That was on me.

What I'm most proud of from that season though is that I didn't quit. 

Even with no readers, I finished stories. 

Seven books in total, written mostly for myself, and I was happy in that groove until Covid hit.

Being stuck in Thailand during the pandemic, away from my family, watching teaching jobs disappear overnight, was one of the darkest periods of my life. I came home with nothing. But I still loved writing, so I turned it into work. Copywriting, blog writing, press releases. Freelance here, freelance there, from 2021 to now, with two long-running clients I'm still grateful for.

Then 2025 arrived, and I felt it again. That pull. That need to write stories.

But before I started anything new, I wanted the stories I had already written to finally exist in the world. That's how the Wacky Duology came out. And with it came the crash course I never signed up for: KDP, formatting, cover design, ARCs, ads, running an actual publishing business. 

It was a lot. It was hard. But it's how I got to meet you.

Suddenly, that sixteen-year-old girl who lost her dad found her voice. And she's using it to make people laugh, swoon, and feel a little less alone.

And by simply being here, you've made that awkward, dream-filled version of me feel seen. Like maybe all those late nights writing and rewriting actually meant something.

So, thank you.

When I'm not writing, I'm usually reading, booking my next travel tickets, or scratching my dog Boji's tummy because apparently that's his favorite thing in the world and honestly, same.

Aaaand I'm done. Sorry, this about page got really long and emotional. 

Honestly, I didn't think many people would read this far, anyway. But you're here, and you're reading this, so thank you. 

Thank you for sitting through all my drama. I get emotional when I write personal stuff, when I probably should just be working on my next novel instead. Lol.

But I won't keep you any longer. I just hope my stories give you that escape, that spark, that "OMG this is so me" moment. Because a story once changed me completely, and I'd love to give you that same feeling.

I hope you'll hold my hand on this journey, for as long as you'd like. Because I promise to hold yours too.

Love, 

Stephanie

P.S. Papa, I hope you're proud of me. Proud of who I am, and who I'm still becoming.