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  • Hello There!

    I'm Sarajane, a blogger, workshop facilitator, and career consultant based out of Asheville, NC.

    I believe chasing your dreams shouldn't be so hard and I dedicate my energy to helping others to take large and small steps in their career while maintaining creative inspiration.

    This is my space to create whatever comes from my heart. It's not marketable, it's not always good, but it's honest. It's not uncommon to find stories from my experience, portrait projects, my thoughts on the world, and tips for how to make the most out of life.

    Grab a cup of coffee (or bourbon) and make yourself at home!

    If you're interested in a workshop or a 1 on 1 consultation get in touch through the consultation tab at the top of this site!

    with love,

Why I will not tell you how to respond to the election.

I sat at a table last night with 5 of my dearest friends. We cooked for each other and shared our frustration with the way the election played out. We’re all tired and motivated and cautious with one another’s hearts.

At one point I looked around and realized that while these are the people whose views align with mine the most, we all have vastly different reactions to the results and nuanced opinions as to how we should handle this moving forward. It’s a lonely time in our nation.


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On Partnerships and Asking for Help.

I laid in my bed, staring at the clock as it struck 2am. The tension built in my body, my shoulders tightened, my legs felt restless and my head held the sensation of vice grips slowly but consistently making themselves tighter around my skull. I tossed. I turned. I tried to count to 100 and back again. I heard the laughter downstairs that seemed to echo like knives directly into the most tense parts of my body.


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How I Became a Better Storyteller in 30 Days.

Earlier this year I knew it was time for me to start writing a book. I wrote my first creative non-fiction piece. I sent it to several talented friends and then became sad at the feedback. I felt like I would never have the tools needed to tell a complete story. I love my writing style, I love the free-flowing nature of my words. But, this style hasn’t always felt conducive to story telling. I didn’t have the tools.

I met Cindy at an Asheville Blogger group about 4 years ago. I was nervous to be there but, she seemed comfortable and confident. She spoke about writing like it was her second nature and with such ease that I knew she was probably talented. Plus, I’m pretty sure she was wearing a leather jacket so she had to be legit.

After meeting I made a point to find her blog. I spent the next several hours reading and laughing and reveling at her story telling prowess. She guided me through her stories effortlessly and joyfully. I never felt like I was struggling to get through a piece, instead I held onto every word. As someone who writes personal essays, storytelling felt like writing magic to me. What kind of sorcery does Cindy Reed have that I can just not tap into? (you can read Cindy’s work here.)

When I realized that Cindy began offering a writers bootcamp I locked that into my mental bucket list. I will do that one day.


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On Bathing Suits and Pre-Teen Anxiety.

I walked onto the beach, put my feet into the water and glanced at the bodies of the older girls nearby. Who decided it was acceptable to wear what is essentially thick underwear out in public? I pushed into the softness of my own stomach. As a chubby, pale, redheaded pre-teen, the beach felt less like a nice vacation and more like my own personal hell.

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On Learning How to Be a Parent.


I was 5 years old and my mom had made snacks for a few of the kids in the trailer park. As one of the girls went to put her dish away it fell and it broke. Her eyes welled up with tears and she looked at my mom as if the world would collapse. Replacing dishes in our home meant more than just a trip to target. It meant thinking and saving and maybe even a few stress tears. I looked at the girl, at the dish and then at my mom. My own eyes started to swell with water as the worry built up inside of me.


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