The Quiet Power of Storytelling

When I think about my own storytelling, what draws me in is its quiet power, the tender edge where strength and vulnerability meet. I strive for intimacy in the stories I write, whispering truths we already know, deep down, but rarely say aloud.

Women’s fiction has evolved. It’s no longer confined to tales of romance or domestic life, but grown into something broader, braver, more complex. It embraces the beautiful mess of becoming. The stumbles, the ache, the hope. My books sit in that space, in the quiet, shifting moments where women come face to face with themselves. Perhaps it’s my own way to find meaning: Why am I here? What does it mean to live fully, honestly, in this world of ours?

My characters are imperfect, as we all are. They falter, they doubt, they keep walking through the fog. But through their struggle, something clears, be it a glimpse of truth or a small flicker of understanding. That’s where my stories breathe: in the rawness of real emotion, where authenticity matters more than resolution.

A cozy reading nook inviting reflection and introspection

The women who inhabit my pages are often caught between who they are and who they’ve been told to be. Patriarchy has always been loud on that subject. But self-realisation isn’t a single revelation. It’s a slow dawning, a gradual shedding of expectation, fear, and the habits of survival. Who we were yesterday may not survive the sunrise.

I like a story that takes its time. One that lets the reader linger in the shadows and silences and to sit with what’s uncomfortable, and feel the echo of their own questions: Have I outgrown the roles I play? What would it mean to live as myself?

Courage is at the heart of it. The courage to face pain, to embrace change, to release what no longer fits. That’s the tension at the centre of Delphi, where Cressida stands at the crossroads between love and freedom, comfort and self-truth.

The Women Unveiled series grows from this same soil. Each book blends myth, history, and imagination to tell stories of women who push against the weight of tradition. Their rebellions are not thunderous, but steady and enduring.

I’m drawn to the space between personal desire and collective expectation, where women wrestle within the gap between who they dream of being and who the world allows them to be. There’s no single version of womanhood, no tidy narrative. Only layers of experience, contradiction, and grace.

A journal and pen inviting personal reflection and storytelling

In Hypsipyle and the Curse of Lemnos, I wanted to restore a woman’s agency long obscured by male voices. To reveal the emotional cost hidden in the margins of history - the private grief that never made it into the ancient texts.

I aim for my writing to connect. For the truth beneath the noise. And I hope my stories invite readers to reflect, to feel, to remember that women’s lives - in all their complexity and contradiction - are worth telling. Again and again.

Hypsipyle and the Curse of Lemnos is being launched in Melbourne by Dr Phil Kafcaloudes on Sunday 16 November. It is a free event but bookings are essential. I would love to see you there.

https://www.trybooking.com/DGTSI