Stories about building, writing, adapting, surviving, selling, and staying original in an AI-heavy world.

Hi you.

Before AI came crashing into the world like a very confident meteor, I was a writer.

In a minute, I’ll tell you what I am now.

I was writing novels as a girl. One title still makes me smile: Love Must Be Found in You, a novel for teenagers. I worked on it through my senior years in high school and rewrote it from scratch more than three times, because apparently young me believed in suffering for art before anyone paid me for it.

It was never published, but I passed it around to my friends.

My mom was probably confused about whether to encourage me. She didn’t know if writing would do anything sensible for me in the cold, hard world I was growing up to enter. At the same time, she didn’t want to shut down what she called my talent.

Ah. The good old parental conundrum.

So she simply did nothing dramatic. I’d show her a piece, she’d say it was cool, and everyone would move on to the next thing.

Honestly? It's fine.

Then I published my first book

As soon as I got into university, I started working on another book: I Found Grace.

That one actually got self-published.

The book launch was beautiful. My parents, brothers, friends, and boyfriend traveled down. There were well-wishers, gifts, surprises, and the kind of turnout that makes a young writer think, “Ah. Maybe I’m not mad after all.”

The book inspired many teenage girls, and I’ve always loved that audience. I was once a teenage girl myself, and I remember how intense those years were - the confusion, the tenderness, the silent wars and the need to just hear it from someone that you're not at the beginning of the end.

After I Found Grace, I started an annual program called Total Writers Convention.

That one caught fire.

The first edition was online. The second and third were physical. Writers came. People learned. Friendships formed. Ideas moved. It became one of those things people kept asking about long after I paused it.

And since this is a good time to explain without actually opening a courtroom, here's why the convention paused:

The third conference ended with me in debt. I couldn’t keep funding inspiration with money I didn’t have. Very poetic, yes. But very dangerous also.

I was in final year. Adulthood was arriving with its full luggage. A relationship storm was staring me in the face. I didn’t know whether I would still marry the person I called my fiancé. On the family front, I was also breaking free from years of abuse and learning, sometimes clumsily, how to take my life back.

I was developing a new taste for smart people. I was also cutting off people who had treated my life like a community project.

Most of all, I had to face the financial truth: the convention was beautiful, but it was capital-intensive. It only made sense to pause until I was more financially stable as the founder.

So I paused it.

No, I never stopped believing in writers.

However, belief does not pay venue bills.

Then came clients, marriage, motherhood, and business

The following years saw me grappling with youth service, a painful breakup, and new clients.

I worked for a while with a dear colleague called Blezzed, then made a beeline for Upwork and began connecting with premium clients from different parts of the world. I hosted writing classes, workshops, and built a new relationship with someone I was crazy about.

Together, my new boyfriend and I stood against the abuse he had also endured for most of his life. My deliverance story was enough motivation for him. Once you’ve fought your way out of a burning room, you start recognizing smoke faster.

We eventually had a very quiet wedding with an extremely small guest list. It's probably one of the wildest things I’ve ever done because nothing confuses people like refusing to turn your wedding into a national conference.

We planned not to have a baby until we were at least a year and a half into marriage.

But parenthood looked at our plans, laughed in ancient Greek, and arrived anyway.

Right before our first daughter was born, my husband and I started our first writing company, The Book Pros. Did I mention my husband was, and still is, a writer too? Very convenient, I know. Also occasionally annoying. Imagine arguing with someone who can edit your sentence and your logic at the same time.

Oh, the Book Pros was good.

We wrote books. We edited. We proofread. We prepared manuscripts. Many of the books we worked on are doing well on Amazon right now. Our biggest traffic came through pipelines we had built over time, and we stayed afloat for a good while, even while learning the ropes of parenting one child, then another.

Then artificial intelligence arrived.

AI did not knock. It entered with boots on.

Artificial intelligence did not politely request a meeting with the writing industry.

It walked in like a machine with a calendar invite nobody accepted.

Many of our clients were confused. Some were distraught. Some left the book space completely. Some asked for time to think. Some tried to carry on but were losing money. Some came to us with fear in their eyes and half a prompt in their hands. Some became witch hunters and wouldn't believe that the original content we produced had no AI input.

It was a strange season.

Around that time, we bought Meg’s Publishing Services and went ahead to register the LLC. It did not look like perfect timing then, but looking back, I think it was a good move.

Because now we can build from here.

And not by pretending AI does not exist.

That would be like standing in the rain and denying weather.

So what am I now?

Mimi is a writer.

For life, I will continue to love writing, telling stories, inspiring people, and helping founders, authors, executives, and business owners say what they mean with power and clarity.

But we cannot - must not - deny that AI is here.

Many of the things we used to charge for cannot be charged for in the same way anymore.

Take author bio writing, for example. We used to offer that in our online shop, and we have sold probably up to 100 units of that service. Today, a $29.99 subscription can give someone an author bio, a book title, a launch caption, a motivational quote, and a meal plan if they ask nicely.

So no, I will not deny AI.

AI has made many things easier, cheaper, and faster.

But here is the part I find most interesting:

AI has made originality more expensive than ever.

Everybody can generate words now.

Not everybody has something to say.

That is the difference.

The internet is currently full of content without fingerprints. Books without soul. Videos with fake props. Advice from people who sound confident about subjects they have never suffered through, studied deeply, practiced seriously, or met in a dark alley.

It is exhausting.

People are hungry for what is real.

We want the founder who admits the wall behind her is not perfect because children live there and children are small, adorable vandals. We want the author who says, “I spent three days trying to write page one.” We want the business owner who knows the difference between a pretty brand and a profitable one because salaries have humbled her before.

Yes. That's what we want now.

We want originality.

Heck, we need it.

Not mess for the sake of mess and not trauma as decoration. Not “authenticity” as another marketing costume or anything else that just seems over-refined.

Real originality.

The kind that comes from actual life, sharp thinking, emotional honesty, professional skill, and the courage to sound like yourself.

You're in luck.

Because that is what I bring.

What I write

I help people (yes, real humans), brands and businesses tell the truth beautifully.

Sometimes that truth becomes a book.

Sometimes it becomes a founder story.

Sometimes it becomes an article, a speech, a website page, a campaign, a personal essay, a publishing strategy, or a content system that finally stops sounding like it was assembled in a cold room by three committees and one frightened intern.

These days, I tend to be especially excited about original books, founder-led content, executive storytelling, human voice in the age of AI, and writing projects that require heart, judgment, and taste.

Once I accept a project, it becomes my burden to carry well, no matter the niche or category.

That is how I work.

Why hire me?

Hire me when you need words that feel like they came from a person who understands people.

Hire me when you have a story, but it is scattered.

Hire me when your book idea is strong, but your structure is misbehaving.

Hire me when your AI-generated draft has “content” but no pulse.

Hire me when your brand sounds fine, but not memorable.

Hire me when you need someone who can listen deeply, think commercially, write beautifully, and protect your voice while making it sharper.

I am not here to help you sound like everyone else with better grammar.

That would be rude.

I am here to help you sound like yourself but clearer, stronger, more useful, and harder to ignore.

This is Mimi.

I want you to stay tuned to my blog because I have stories for days.

Stories about writing, business, motherhood, AI, books, clients, faith, reinvention, money lessons, originality, and the very dramatic process of trying to build beautiful things in a world that keeps changing the rules.

I can't promise you that I won't step on your toes.

But I promise:

All my stories will be human.

I will communicate as me.