An Interview with Timothy L. Drobnick Sr.

Author of Rescued by Ghosts, Timothy Tibb, and The Calder Files

Timothy L. Drobnick Sr. did not become an author by following a straight road. His path moved through childhood imagination, art, business, family, spiritual searching, personal loss, rebuilding, and the long process of learning to trust his own creative voice.

He began writing later in life, but the stories had been there since childhood. Today, his books move across true paranormal experience, epic fantasy thriller, and crime thriller, but underneath the different genres is a shared emotional core: people surviving darkness, discovering truth, resisting hidden control, and finding hope.

In this interview, Timothy talks about his life, his books, his faith, his wife Catherine, his philosophy of storytelling, and why he believes it is never too late to live creatively.

You became an author later in life. Did writing feel like a new dream, or something that had been inside you for a long time?

It had been inside me for a long time.

When I was very young, even in third grade, I had whole worlds going on in my mind. I would get in trouble in class because I was physically sitting there, but mentally I was somewhere else. The teacher would have to call my name several times before I came back to the real world.

I loved being in those other worlds. It was wonderful.

At the time, I did not know that meant I was a storyteller. I did not understand that those worlds could be written down someday and that other people might want to read them. Looking back now, I believe the author was already there. He was just waiting to be recognized.

What did you want to be when you were a child?

I wanted to be an artist. That was the big dream. When I was a kid, all I wanted was to grow up and become an artist.

And I actually was an artist for a while. Later in life, I realized that writing and art are not as separate as I once thought. They use the same creative part of my mind. Art helped me see images, emotion, shape, and atmosphere. Writing lets me do that with scenes, characters, dialogue, and story.

So in a way, becoming an author did not replace the artist in me. It gave him his life back.

You have said boredom feels almost like torture to you. How does that connect to being an author?

Boredom has always felt like torture to me.

I like having things to solve. I like having my mind busy. That is one reason authorship fits me so well, especially as an independent author.

Writing books is not only writing scenes. It is story, character, emotion, structure, covers, advertising, reader behavior, websites, email lists, graphics, data, pricing, and business decisions. Some people might find all of that overwhelming. I find it fascinating.

It gives every part of my mind something to do.

The artist in me gets to create. The storyteller gets to build worlds. The business side of me gets to test ideas. The math side of me gets to study patterns. The spiritual side of me gets to explore meaning. The emotional side of me gets to connect with readers.

That is why writing does not feel like one job to me. It feels like the place where many parts of my life finally came together.

You have said that starting later feels like a late start, but not a tragedy. What do you mean by that?

It does feel like a late start. I would not pretend otherwise.

But all the experience I had up to age sixty has been beneficial to my writing. The years were not wasted. I had lived enough life to understand people better. I had learned patience. I had learned how power can be used well or badly. I had learned how people survive pain. I had learned not to quit when something is hard.

When I was younger, I had determination, but now I have evidence. I know from my own life that if I do not quit, I can usually figure things out.

That belief is much stronger now than it was when I was young.

What is one of the earliest business lessons that shaped the way you think?

When I was twenty-two, I had a carpet cleaning company in Sheridan, Wyoming, where I was raised. I believed that if I was not getting at least ninety percent of the estimates I gave, I was bidding too high.

A friend of mine who was a plumber told me I was doing it wrong. He said I was bidding too low. I told him if I raised my prices, I would lose work. He said, “Yes, you’ll lose the work you don’t want—the people who don’t want to pay for good quality, the terrible jobs you’ve been complaining about. And even if you only get seventy percent of the bids, you’ll still make more money.”

He was right.

That changed how I thought about value. Winning every job is not the same as building a good business. That lesson also applies to books. Not every reader is my reader. The goal is not to attract everyone. The goal is to reach the right readers.

You often combine creativity with business thinking. How important is the practical side of publishing to you?

It is very important.

I love the emotional and creative side of writing, but I also enjoy the numbers. I like spreadsheets. I like patterns. I like figuring out why something works or does not work.

That is especially true with advertising.

A book can be good, but readers still have to discover it. So I study ads, clicks, sales, Kindle Unlimited page reads, read-through, images, headlines, and landing pages. I test ideas. I watch what readers respond to. If something fails, I try to understand why.

I do not see that as separate from being an author. For an independent author, the business side is part of reaching readers.

The creative side writes the story. The business side helps the right readers find it.

I do not want to trick anyone into reading my books. I want to find the readers who are already looking for the kind of stories I write.

Who is the right reader for your books?

The right reader is someone who wants to feel that there is magic in the world, and that they can experience some of it.

That does not mean every story is light. My books can have darkness, danger, grief, fear, and hidden control. But underneath that, I want readers to feel hope.

I want them to feel that life is bigger than what we see. That there are unseen forces. That people can be hurt, misled, or afraid and still find a wonderful life.

What does “a wonderful life” mean to you?

To me, a wonderful life means being satisfied with your choices. Being free from guilt. Experiencing the joy you can bring to other people. Having less worry about providing the necessities of life.

That is a grounded kind of hope. It is not pretending life has no pain. It is believing that people can still find peace, joy, love, creativity, and purpose.

Your first major series was Rescued by Ghosts. What did that series give readers?

I believe Rescued by Ghosts gives readers peace and freedom from guilt.

It came from my own life and my own spiritual experiences. I was raised in a fear-based religious environment where I spent years afraid of hell, afraid of questioning, afraid that one small mistake could condemn me before I even had a chance to ask forgiveness.

One reader once told me that he had spent his entire life in fear of going to hell because of his Pentecostal upbringing. After reading my book, he said he was relieved of that fear. He thanked me.

That made me very emotional. I was very happy I could do that for him, because I know what that fear was. If I can help release anybody from that fear, I am very grateful.

Did writing Rescued by Ghosts change how you saw yourself as an author?

Yes.

At first, I believed in the story and I needed to tell it, but I did not know whether anyone else would want to read it. I thought that even if nobody read it, I enjoyed writing it, and it could just be my last book.

Then readers responded. Some said they could not put it down. That meant a lot to me because it showed I was not only someone who had lived an interesting life. I was learning how to tell a compelling story.

That gave me ambition to write more books.

Before your larger series, you published a book of short stories. What did that teach you?

After my divorce, a friend read some of the short stories I had written years earlier about growing up in Sheridan, Wyoming.

My friend told me they were wonderful, and I believed her.

That gave me enough confidence to put those stories into a book.

I thought maybe it would sell right away. It did not. At least not in the way I had hoped.

But the book still mattered. I gave printed copies to people, and a few readers told me they enjoyed the stories and wanted more. That was enough to give me hope.

It also taught me that having a story is not the same as knowing how to build an author career. I had to learn craft, publishing, marketing, covers, advertising, and reader expectations. That early disappointment did not make me quit. It made me study.

Looking back, I think that small book was an important doorway. It did not make me successful overnight, but it helped me believe the writer in me was real.

You had an editor early on who wanted Rescued by Ghosts to be scarier. Why did you reject that advice?

She told me the book was not scary enough. She thought I needed to have scary ghosts come out more like a horror story.

I told her I would not write it that way because that was not what the story was.

Rescued by Ghosts was not meant to be a horror story. It was spiritual, emotional, personal, and true to my experience. The ghosts were not there to frighten people. They were part of something meaningful.

That editor told me the book would be a great failure and that nobody would ever read it or like it. But the book eventually found readers. It received hundreds of reviews, and the other books in the series also found readers.

That made me feel vindicated. But the real joy was not that she was wrong. The real joy was that readers liked the book as I believed it should be written.

How did that experience affect the way you listen to advice now?

I still listen to experts. I respect people who have proven success. If their advice goes against my instincts on advertising, covers, or graphics, I will often test it. I am always excited to learn something new that works.

But I have also learned not to let someone else replace the soul of my story.

Trusted editors are very important to me. The ones I trust understand my vision, tell me the truth, say it kindly, and make the book better. A hard note can still hurt a little, but when it comes from the right person in the right way, I know they are probably trying to help the story become stronger.

You have spoken about being raised inside fear. How did you begin to break free from that?

It started with contradictions.

One Sunday, the church would preach one thing. Another Sunday, they would say something different. When I brought it up to the preacher, I was reprimanded for questioning leadership.

That made me suspicious that something was wrong. It also made me suspicious that I might be right—that maybe they did not always know for sure that what they were telling us was the truth, and maybe they were doing it to keep control.

Later, when I went to theology school, I thought I would finally find true answers. My parents and church believed it was a holy school and the best place for me to become a man of God and a minister. But instead, I found more contradictions and more pushback when I asked questions.

I became frustrated because I knew if I was going to lead my own church someday, I would need real answers. I was not going to defend contradictions.

What did you do when the system would not give you answers?

I started searching outside the system.

At the school, there were banned books. They had taken over the campus from another religion, and in the library there were secular books and religious books the school did not agree with. They put them in a separate room and locked the door so nobody could read them. We were told we were not allowed to go in there, and we could be kicked out if we did.

But the librarians did not always lock the door.

I would go in with a flashlight and read as much as I possibly could.

I was excited to get knowledge and true answers. I was not sneaking in there just to rebel. I was searching for truth.

What did those banned books help you see?

They helped me see that religious doctrines had a history. They had development, decisions, politics, councils, and contradictions behind them.

I found many instances where the church had decided one thing was truth, then later changed its mind. That showed me the church did not always know perfectly what God’s vision was, because they had admitted their own mistakes.

That helped me separate God from the institution.

It did not change my opinion of God. It changed my opinion of the church. I realized the church was not the one that got to dictate to me, or anyone else, what God was or is.

Did knowledge alone free you from the fear?

No. That is what brainwashing is.

Even when logic is in front of you, the core belief does not always change right away. I had started to understand logically that maybe I was not going to be condemned to hell for questioning authority, but my mind would not let go of that fear.

That did not happen until I was twenty-four.

I was sitting in a Woolworths café, talking to a religious man who understood the Bible but was also objective. Something broke loose. I do not know what it was, but all of a sudden it felt like I was coming out of a pool of water. I could hear sounds clearly. It was like the world had been clouded, and then my eyes became clear. I could actually feel the level of water lowering across my skin as I came out.

That was when I became free of the brainwashing.

I felt totally free. I had no more pressure from the fear of the church, the fear of hell, or the fear that God would condemn me for one tiny mistake.

Did that experience change how you see people still trapped in fear-based systems?

Yes.

My best friend from Bible school, Bryan, was in a similar position. After I walked away from the church, the church banned him and everyone else from communicating with me. That was very sad.

It took until Brian was forty-five before he became de-brainwashed. He finally contacted me. I asked him what took so long. He said, “I don’t know. But I’m glad at least I’m free now.”

When he came back, our friendship was still there, the same as before.

That gives me hope for other people. Some people need years, even decades, before the fear loosens enough for them to step out. But freedom can still happen.

How does that experience show up in your fiction?

It shows up in the way I write hidden control.

In my fantasy thriller series, Tatiana is one of the clearest examples. She does a lot of good. In the Dark Ages, she helps bring people out of poverty by converting village economies and building churches. Ordinary people see the good. They see food, work, churches, stability, and order.

But behind that, she is building a power structure. Her goal is more magical power, and she gains that power through more worshipers and more churches. To get people to come to the churches, they have to believe she is good.

Tatiana knows exactly what she is doing. She is not deluded into thinking she is chosen or righteous. She will manipulate and kill to keep her structure in place. She has destroyed armies with fire and then presented it to people as God’s justice.

That is what makes her dangerous. Her power is too close to real life. The frightening part is not only the magic or the fire. It is the way control can hide behind goodness, religion, and holy words.

Do you want readers to hate Tatiana?

I do not want it to be easy and black-and-white.

Tatiana does plenty of good. That makes the moral question complicated. Can all the good she does outweigh the things most people would consider wrong or even evil?

The ordinary people under her may not see the hidden machine. They are not stupid. They are hungry, afraid, hopeful, and grateful for visible help. Good people can be misled.

I want readers to recognize the danger of hidden control, especially through extreme religions, cults, and political manipulation. I want them to be more careful and objective when they look at people in power.

People in power are not always what they seem to be.

Your books often deal with darkness, but they are also full of hope. Why is that balance important to you?

Because darkness is real, but I believe hope is stronger.

I do not want to write stories where nothing hurts. People are hurt in real life. They are misled. They are afraid. They make mistakes. They carry shame. They get trapped in systems. They lose people. They have to rebuild.

But I also believe people can keep going. They can find truth. They can learn who is worthy of trust. They can become worthy of the trust others place in them. They can find love, freedom, courage, and joy.

That is one of the deepest promises in my books.

What is your promise to readers?

I want to give them a good story, a completed story, and a story that compels them to keep reading.

I respect readers. If they invest their time and emotion, I owe them payoff, resolution, and the feeling that the journey was worth it.

The two payoffs that matter most to me are the emotional payoff and the conspiracy payoff. I want the hidden truth to be revealed in a satisfying way, and I want the characters to be changed by what they survived.

You have said you believe in completed stories. Why does that matter so much to you?

Readers are trusting me with their time and emotions.

If someone starts one of my series, I want them to believe I take that seriously. I do not want them to feel as if I am casually throwing out a book and seeing what happens. I want them to know there is a plan.

That is why completed stories matter to me. Emotional payoff matters. Conspiracy payoff matters. Character payoff matters.

I usually know where a story is going before I begin. I may discover details along the way, but I know the destination. I want readers to feel that the clues, relationships, danger, and emotional pressure were all building toward something meaningful.

As an independent author, I also think consistency matters. Readers want to know the author is serious, that the books will continue, and that the story will not be abandoned.

I respect that.

If readers give me their attention, I want to give them a story worth finishing.

You have said not every reader is your reader. How did you learn to accept that?

That was a big lesson.

Early in business, I learned that trying to win every customer can be a mistake. Some customers are not the right fit. If I tried to please everyone, I would lower the value of what I was offering and attract the wrong people.

Books are similar.

Some readers do not want anything supernatural. Some do not want spiritual themes. Some do not want institutional conspiracies. Some do not want long series. That is OK. They are probably not my readers.

My readers are the people who want mystery, emotion, darkness, hope, hidden worlds, and the feeling that life is bigger than what we can see.

Once I accepted that, marketing became clearer. I do not need to convince everyone. I need to reach the people who are already open to the kind of stories I tell.

That is freeing.

It lets me write more honestly.

How do you build mystery and conspiracy into your stories?

I always know the ending before I start writing. Usually the final reveal comes first. Then I work backward from there.

I like to plant clues that let readers think they can figure it out, but I also like red herrings. The best red herring is believable at the time. It usually works because the character’s motive feels real.

I enjoy that magician feeling in storytelling. The reader is watching one hand, and then the final reveal makes them realize they were watching the wrong hand. When that happens fairly, I hope the reader feels that little thrill of, “He got me.”

One of my favorite ways to hide clues is in casual dialogue. A line sounds harmless the first time. Later, after the reveal, the reader realizes it mattered all along.

You have said you do not want to tell readers how to feel. What do you mean by that?

I want readers to discover the emotion for themselves.

If I tell readers, “This is sad,” or “This is inspiring,” or “This character is brave,” I have taken something away from them. I have told them what to feel instead of letting them experience it.

I would rather show a character making a hard choice. Show someone staying when leaving would be easier. Show someone telling the truth when silence would protect them. Show a small act of kindness when everything around them is cruel.

Then the reader can feel the meaning without being instructed.

That is one of the biggest lessons I have learned as a writer.

A story is stronger when the reader participates emotionally. The author opens the door, but the reader walks through it.

What excites you most about The Calder Files?

The institutional conspiracy.

In The Calder Files, what scares me most is not only the people committing crimes. It is the system that makes those crimes easier to hide.

A single criminal can be caught. But a system that protects wrongdoing, buries evidence, pressures witnesses, and teaches good people to stay quiet is much harder to fight. That kind of conspiracy does not require every person inside it to be evil. It only requires enough people to follow procedure, protect careers, and look away.

That is the colder fear.

For Rowan Calder and Jonas Hale, one of the most awful realizations is that they may not know who inside the institution they can trust. That forces their partnership to become more than professional. Trust becomes survival.

What makes Rowan and Jonas important to you?

Their partnership is built slowly.

Rowan can trust Jonas with the case before she can trust him with the parts of herself the institution has damaged. She is not afraid he will judge her as much as she is afraid he will try to fix her.

Jonas earns her trust by not trying to fix her. He stays beside her. He listens. He respects boundaries. When she admits fear, he does not rush in with advice unless she asks for it. Sometimes all he says is, “I understand,” or he simply nods.

That restraint is what makes him safe.

Rowan begins to trust him more because he respects the boundary.

How does that connect to your own philosophy?

A lot of my books come back to trust.

People become free when they learn who is truly worthy of their trust—and when they become worthy of the trust others place in them.

For Timothy Tibb, that means becoming emotionally mature enough to deserve the people who believe in him. For Rowan, it means learning that closeness does not always mean control. For readers, I think it means recognizing that real strength is not domination or power over others. Real strength makes other people safer.

Timothy Tibb is a powerful character, but you have said his real arc is not just about power. What is it really about?

It is about whether he becomes emotionally mature enough to deserve the people who trust him.

Power alone would not make him worthy of leadership. Magic alone would not make him worthy of Catherine, Jade, Dennis, Alexander, Nichelle, or the rescued flyers. What matters is honesty, humility, accountability, self-control, trust, and the willingness to protect people without being ruled by darkness.

Timothy knows his imperfections. He does not want to be put on a pedestal. He wants his friends to keep him grounded, and he wants to keep them grounded too.

He wants mutual love and respect. He does not want worship.

Timothy and Catherine’s love story is very important to you. Why?

Their love story is a major pillar of the whole series.

Timothy and Catherine in the books are based on me and my wife, Catherine. I thank God every day for my wife. The trust, tenderness, and humor in our real relationship are things I want to preserve in the fictional relationship.

My wife reads my work. She gets excited every time we get a sale. She brags about me to her family. She listens to my ideas. Her belief and faith in me are very healing.

After living through discouragement before, having an encouraging spouse makes a huge difference. This author dream feels lighter because I am not carrying it alone.

You have talked about Catherine’s support, but what is she like in ordinary life?

Catherine is loving and supportive, and playful.

One of the things I love about her is that she can be silly in the sweetest way. She will hide the remote or hide my socks at bedtime, then start giggling when I try to find them. Sometimes I know exactly what she did, but I play along because her giggle makes me happy.

Those little moments matter.

It is easy to talk about love in big dramatic terms, but real love also lives in small things. A laugh. A look. A joke at bedtime. Someone who celebrates with you when something good happens. Someone who makes the ordinary parts of life feel warm.

That kind of tenderness and humor influences how I write relationships.

In my books, love is not only grand sacrifice or danger. Sometimes love is the person who understands you, believes in you, and makes you laugh when the world feels heavy.

What do you want readers to feel from Timothy and Catherine’s relationship?

I want them to feel like crying to witness something so deep and pure.

Their love is not just attraction or romance. It is trust. It is truth. It is healing. Catherine helps Timothy face the darkness in himself without losing who he is. She does not excuse everything. She tells him the truth. But she also loves him and comforts him.

At one point, Timothy comes to understand why Sheena told him Catherine was his true love. It is not just because of romance. It is because Catherine can help him become whole.

Eventually, their instincts grow into something rare and magical. They can look at each other and communicate without words. Words can deceive or hide, but this communication cannot. It is true.

That moment feels peaceful because they have one hundred percent trust in each other.

Catherine is also a strong character in her own right. How do you see her?

Catherine is a wounded woman with a strong core she never gave up.

She only temporarily surrendered to a narcissistic husband. But she is very kind and sweet, and also very tough. Her profession is restoring century-old mansions. Because of that, she knows tools and high-tech equipment most people do not know. She even knows how to handle dynamite.

But she is also emotionally supportive. She empathizes with people. She comforts them. She knows when to speak, when to confront, when to give a hug, and when to sit quietly.

Her sweetness is not weakness.

Jade is another character readers can connect with strongly. What makes her special?

Jade is blunt, sarcastic, and surprising. She can make people laugh after tense moments, which helps the whole group breathe again.

Her humor is not just comic relief. She knows she is helping people relax. Catherine comforts through tenderness. Jade comforts by breaking the tension.

But Jade seldom shows fear. When she does, it is usually because someone she loves is in danger. Timothy is often the one who notices first, and sometimes he just gives her a look. She understands. She may smile back, and that can be enough.

Jade’s toughness is real, but there is a lot underneath it.

You have been developing a relationship triangle involving Jade, Mason, and Dennis. What matters most about that arc?

I do not want it to be shallow.

Jade’s hardest part is admitting what she really feels. She can fight. She can make sarcastic comments. She can face physical danger. But emotional honesty is harder for her.

Catherine helps her by asking questions, not by telling her who to choose. Catherine and Jade have a special bond, almost supernatural in its trust. Jade may deflect with other people, but not with Catherine.

Jade will delay the decision until she knows for sure. But once she knows, she will be forthright with both of them.

The decision is about realizing which person she wants beside her in the good times and the bad times. I want readers to feel happiness for Jade and the one she chooses, but also sadness for the one she does not choose.

The rejected partner will grieve, but he will not be devastated. Leaving the group will not even come up. The found family matters more than his personal pain.

What do you want that storyline to show?

That love can change shape without disappearing.

The person Jade does not choose still matters. Their friendship will be warm, but changed, because there was emotional intimacy for a while. Not physical intimacy, but emotional.

There will be a private moment where Jade reaches out first, maybe with a hand on his arm. He gives her a hug and says, “I’m glad you’re still my friend.” Jade cannot say much. She just holds the hug and cries.

That scene matters because it shows the bond survived.

Alexander is another morally complex member of the group. How do you understand him?

Alexander has experience with deception, and that can be useful to the group.

He can turn invisible, and that is his second magic. He steals, but he has his own moral code. He only steals from rich people who would never know something was missing. He says if they ever notice it is missing, he will take it back.

The others do not agree with his way of making a living, but Alexander brings a perspective they do not have. He is extremely loyal and would fight to the death for any of them. They all know that.

Other people’s opinions of him do not really affect him, but he understands their point of view and respects it.

His relationship with Timothy deepens when Timothy gets his jealousy over Catherine under control. Alexander and Catherine were friends long before they met Timothy. At first, Timothy was jealous and did not treat Alexander very well. But as Timothy matures, Alexander sees the growth and respects him more.

Eventually, Timothy will apologize directly. Alexander will simply nod and say, “It’s not a problem. Thank you.”

That will help Timothy release a little guilt he has been carrying.

You often write about small emotional moments. Are those as important to you as the action?

Yes.

The battles, magic, prisons, conspiracies, and danger give the stories scale. But the smaller emotional resolutions give them soul.

A man apologizing. A friend accepting it quietly. Catherine touching Timothy’s arm when shame returns. Jade receiving a hug after a difficult choice. Rowan admitting fear. Jonas not trying to fix her.

Those moments matter because they show who the characters are becoming.

How do you approach “show, don’t tell” in your writing?

I do not want to tell people how to feel. I want them to read what is happening and discover it on their own.

That was one of the lessons I learned from writing Rescued by Ghosts. Real pain does not need to be exaggerated if the reader is allowed to witness it honestly.

I trust dialogue, expressions, body positions, silence, and action. I can hear the characters’ voices in my head. Sometimes a character says something I did not plan, and I trust it right away because it sounds exactly like them.

For me, writing has rhythm. I can feel when an emotional moment has gone long enough or needs to be longer. It feels like hearing the timing of a sound.

My background as a singer helped with that. Writing may be prose, but pacing, breath, pauses, and emotional rhythm are musical too.

What makes your prose feel like yours?

My prose is realistic and conversational. I use bits of humor. Sometimes I am serious.

I want extraordinary things to happen to people who still talk and feel like real people. Humor usually comes from the character naturally, but it also gives the reader a breath when a scene has been heavy.

That balance matters to me. Darkness feels stronger when readers also see what love, humor, and ordinary life look like.

Humor appears even in your darker stories. Why is that important?

Humor gives the reader room to breathe.

My books can deal with serious things: fear, grief, hidden control, trauma, spiritual danger, crime, corruption, and moral pressure. If the story stayed heavy all the time, it would become exhausting.

Real people still laugh, even during hard times. Sometimes humor is how people survive.

That is why characters like Jade are so important to me. Her sarcasm is funny, but it also serves a purpose. She breaks tension. She helps the group breathe again. She gives people a moment of relief after danger.

I do not want the humor to feel forced. If a character says something that makes me laugh, and it feels true to that character, I usually keep it.

Humor does not weaken the darkness. It makes the people inside the darkness feel more alive.

How does your work as an accountant connect to your writing and your life philosophy?

As an accountant, I have learned that listening matters.

I think one reason clients believe I do a wonderful job is not only because I do expert tax work, although I do. It is also because I listen to them. When I listen, I often find out things they did not tell me at first, things that can help me get them a better tax return.

But it also seems to make a difference in their lives. Sometimes I feel almost like a minister or counselor because people open up to me. Even strangers in grocery stores will start talking to me. Doctors, even my own doctors, open up to me.

I think there is something spiritual about that. People seem to sense I will listen without anger or judgment.

That ability to listen connects to everything: accounting, writing, helping people, and understanding characters.

You have said many, many, people have told you that you made a difference in their lives. What does that mean to you?

It makes me feel appreciative that I was able to help them.

People have come back decades later and told me I made a positive difference in their lives. Managers from a business I had in 1987, before I gave it up to raise my kids, called me years later and said my kindness and respect had made a profound difference to them.

I do not hear that as, “Look how important I was.” I feel grateful I was able to help.

That is also part of why writing matters. It is another way to help people, maybe on a larger scale, through stories that reach readers I may never meet.

What role does faith and spirituality play in your life now?

God is still important to me. Sheena, my spirit guide, is important to me. I also believe in spirits or angels, as some people call them.

My spiritual life did not end when I left the fear-based church. In many ways, it became more honest. I no longer believe an institution has the right to dictate God to me. I believe life continues after we leave this earth, and I believe we return many times for lessons.

There was a time when I was dealing with an abusive business partner. I asked Sheena to please let me quit. She told me if I quit, I would just have to start over with somebody else. This was already the fourth business partner where I had experienced the same abuse. She told me if I finished with this partner, I would learn the lesson and never have to do it again.

She was right.

After that, I became much braver. It became easier for me to tell people no and refuse arrangements that were wrong for me.

How does that lesson affect your author career?

It helps me not let people’s opinions control my decisions.

When people doubt me, especially people important to me, it can still hurt. What hurts most is when they do not believe in me. But their opinion does not stop me.

I listen to experts. I test advice from people who have success. But I do not let other people steer my life.

That has been true in business, and it is true in writing.

What does success as an author mean to you?

Success means writing books people love and having enough people buy those books that I can become a full-time author.

I love accounting, but it is not something I can do forever. Writing gives me a future where I can still help people, still create, still use my mind and heart, but in a way that can continue longer.

The part that means the most is the chance to write every day.

My wife Catherine and I want to travel. We visit her family in the Philippines, and I can write there. The last time we were in the Philippines for eight weeks, I loved writing on the porch while it rained outside. Rain is very soothing to me.

That is the kind of author life I imagine: family, travel, rain, quiet, and stories still moving through me.

What would it feel like to become a full-time author?

Joy and gratitude.

The first person I would tell is Catherine, although she would probably know before I said it because she watches the daily growth with me. She wants this too. That makes the dream lighter because I am not carrying it alone.

For me, the deepest reward is giving myself permission to live as the writer I always was.

What do you hope readers take from your books?

I hope my books touch them emotionally, inspire them, and make them feel better about life.

For Rescued by Ghosts, I hope readers feel peace and freedom from guilt.

For Timothy Tibb, I hope they feel joy, love, and excitement about life.

For The Calder Files, I hope they feel the satisfaction of uncovering hidden truth, and the emotional depth of characters learning who they can trust.

Across all of them, I hope readers feel that darkness does not get the final word.

What would you say to someone who thinks it is too late to follow a dream?

As long as you are alive, never quit living.

If you have a dream, even if it seems foolish, try it.

You will get more pleasure out of trying and failing at a dream than sitting and wishing you had.

I think many people are afraid of looking foolish to their friends. But I have learned not to let that stop me. I have had big ideas since I was a child, and big ideas do not usually scare me.

The danger is not trying too late.

The danger is never trying at all.

How would you summarize the deepest theme in your books and your life?

People can survive control, fear, shame, and darkness. They can ask questions. They can find truth. They can learn who is worthy of trust. They can become worthy of trust themselves.

And they can still build a creative, productive, loving, wonderful life.

That is what I believe.

That is why I write.