I was first published when I was 14 years old. Nothing spectacular, just a poem in a local teen magazine about the ravages of nuclear war. I was a profound child.

Since then I’ve been published many times. I’ve always been a WRITER. Yes, said in caps. Always caps. It’s important, you know. I did the “starving for my art” thing in my 20s which translated to making excuses for not sitting down and writing. In my 30s, I was a freeEnglish as a Thieflance journalist which translated to little money, no social life. In my late 30s I did the insanity thing which translated to visiting places in my head that no one needs to know about.

It wasn’t until I reached my 40s that I realized it wasn’t working. Oh, I’m amazing at working words, don’t get me wrong. Give me a topic and I can spin a piece to make you blush. I reached the point in my life where I had to realize a simple truth; I am not a writer.

I can hear the gasps now. Like many of you, I wanted to mourn the loss of my identity. Being a writer was all I knew, it was the heartbeat of my soul. However, if something’s not working I’m not going to beat it into submission. As much fun as that sounds.

The problem was that whole artsy thing was gone. I travelled in a haze through my days as a student in the Professional Writing program at Grant MacEwan University watching all the other students. There was a distinct disconnect between me and them.

The students were mostly innocent 20 somethings who were still exploring the writing world like kittens in new fallen snow. I was the jaded old alley cat with patchy fur and a bad temper. I couldn’t find that sense of wonder like they did. I had to redefine what I was.

I grew up listening to my mother’s stories about her life in a small town called Mintou in British Columbia. Mintou later became an internment camp for the Japanese but when my mother was there it was a place of wonder and beauty. The ugliness came after she left.

Story telling is in my blood. I am Metis, a mixture of Scots and native. Both heritages have a rich story telling history. Anyone who has had the pleasure of drinking with a Scotsman, no matter what age, knows what I’m talking about. Generation after generation of story tellers is in my DNA.

I am a big believer in simple. I believe that simple is always best. If something isn’t working, that’s usually because it’s too complicated. Being a writer wasn’t working so I simplified it. I made two discoveries about myself; first, I am a story-teller. Second, I am an entrepreneur. Simple.

It is true that people love a good story and many companies out there have great stories to tell. Those stories get told in every pamphlet, every web page, every email. When I designed my company I decided that I wanted to help companies tell their stories.

A good story-teller helps the listener to live the story. They fall in love with the hero, walk with them through the forest, slay the dragons with them. I am a story-teller that helps companies tell their story to their clients. In every manual or brochure, I help the audience fall in love with the hero.

It’s a different way of approaching the traditional field of corporate communications but we live in a different world. The Internet has made it possible to redefine how we portray ourselves. This is no different for a company. Gone are the ABC days when advertising was a simple matter of following a formula to reach a particular person. Social media makes it possible to understand the heart of a company. A web page makes it possible to hear the company’s words. In this day and age, a company needs to show their clients they are real and vital. My approach helps companies do just that.

When I gave up being a writer, I found myself again. Being a story-teller means I get to use skills I’ve honed over decades to bring stories to life. I’ve chosen to tell the stories of companies because they fascinate me and I know they could be so much more than they are. I am a story-teller and an entrepreneur and I have the best job in the world.