Here I am, an Indie author. I am also still a graphic designer, a wife and most importantly a mother. Had you asked me a few years ago if I would see myself here, you would have received a full-bodied “Hell no!” – but here I am. Life is funny that way.
It’s not that I never had dreams about being a writer. Or that I never wrote: I have and I did, I just never did anything with it. I was too busy grabbing on to every other opportunity that passed my way. I danced ballet, I sang in a rock band, in church and for weddings and events. With husband and kids I moved to Canada to start over. And start over we did with a whole new spectrum of opportunities. I worked construction, and then as a legal assistant. Ended up finding myself a single mom with two teenagers. An unexpected challenge, but also another opportunity to turn a new page again: find a different purpose. Worked as a birth and post-partum doula and taught childbirth classes. I thought I’d found my calling.
I pushed hard with everything I did and ignored the physical challenges to my health. They caught up with me. And diagnosed with a respectable list of chronic issues, I had no choice but to do a complete overhaul. This came after discovering I was no longer able to sustain a regular job due to faltering mobility and effed up autoimmune and central nervous systems. Five years ago I started dabbling in different creative outlets—a way to battle a prevailing sense of uselessness.
Books and reading, a life-long love of mine, became focus. Not only was I writing a blog and reviewing, but I was able to keep creative juices from going stagnant by reprogramming my artistic skills into cover design. It went a long way toward seeing myself not as someone no longer able to do certain things, but rather as someone with nothing to lose and therefore could do it all. Everything. Anything. And that’s when I jumped into writing.
I never thought I would finish that first book, let alone publish it. But I did. The second one came much easier and number three even more so. I certainly never thought that writing would be my best medicine. Never expected that after many years of dozens of pills to help me through the day, I would end up with barely any, such is the incredible power of my creative release when I write.
I am now addicted—to writing. I know folks look at the rate I seem to “churn out” the books, but the truth is I don’t “churn”, I write constantly, because I NEED to. Writing is a tool for me, it makes me feel better physically, it gives me an outlet for the chaos in my head, it gives me a purpose and—something I’ve just recently come to discover—it gives me power. A power I thought I had lost forever. So you see, I can’t slow down or take a break. I don’t want to.
I write for ME, but as I have come to find out, what I write has impact on others too. We all write, in part, about what we know or understand. For me it’s working with a deck of cards that is stacked against you…and STILL finding the ability to create a beautiful—albeit not perfect—life.
It’s why I write about regular people, often dealing with rather mundane and everyday issues that are easy to overlook, but not necessarily that easy to live with. I show them finding strength and purpose and at times great happiness through, with and in their struggles. Adapting to different realities doesn’t have to mean giving in—it can mean reclaiming power.
BIO: Freya has always been creative. Involved in music and dance when she was younger, she followed it up with painting, cake design, quilting, and has most recently added cover design. Now the Dutch-born Canadian mother of two has found her voice – writing. For Freya Barker the next step to pen a book of her own seemed only natural after a life-time of reading. Driven to make her stories about ‘real’ people, Freya’s characters are perhaps less than perfect, but just as deserving of romance, hot monkey sex and some thrills and chills in their lives!