Smells Like Book Spirit

Let me set the scene. 

Just about every night, for about a year, I was being assaulted by what can only be described as a tactical strike of skunk stink. Not the once-a-year “oh no, the dog found something in the bushes” kind of smell. Not the odor that encounters solid brick walls. No. This was a daily occurrence creeping through paper-thin mobile home walls. Like clockwork. Skunk o’clock. Often as early as 3 am. 

 At first, I thought it was my imagination. Maybe I’d left a window open during a particularly rebellious breeze. Maybe a rogue trash panda was pranking me with cologne choices. But no. The universe had sent me a message. A pungent, persistent, furry little messenger. 

It smelled like dread. Like defeat. Like a prank I hadn’t quite figured out the punchline to. My nervous system balked daily, my mind thought of many unflattering things about neighbors whose, shall we say, disorderly practices seemed to invite some of nature's most pungent events. 

And then it hit me. Not the smell—well, yes, the smell—but also, the idea. What if this wasn’t an attack? What if this was... inspiration?

Because here's the thing: when something annoying happens every single day, you can either cry about it (been there), curse the gods of wildlife, or... write a children’s book. So I did the third one.

I turned my olfactory nightmare into a whimsical, emotionally grounded children’s story. Not just any skunk story, mind you. A story that helps kids deal with big feelings—like rejection, loneliness, sensitivity, and, yes, the occasional urge to spray the world with emotions.

The main character? A skunk who doesn’t mean to stink up everyone’s day—she just feels things so deeply that sometimes… they leak out. Can’t we all relate? Writing it became therapy. Editing it became healing. Publishing it? That was a triumph over Eau de Doom. 

And the best part? What started as a joke between me and the stink cloud turned into something that resonates with actual human hearts—kids, parents, grown-ups with inner children still wearing emotional training wheels. 

Sometimes your worst daily nuisance is just an unprocessed plot twist in disguise. And sometimes healing doesn’t smell like lavender and sage. Sometimes it smells like skunk. But you write it anyway.

And that, my friends, is how It's Not My Fault came to life: a children’s book born from a very real need to turn stink into story, and frustration into fun.

So, I released the ebook mid of June. The ebook was my first attempt to alchemize irritation into insight. It worked. It was fun. And then… I got an idea that smelled almost as strong as the real thing: Let’s make an activity book. Because what do kids love more than a story? A story they can draw all over.

So I expanded this humble tale into an activity book full of creative prompts, emotional check-ins, skunk-themed fun, and yes, a few therapeutic surprises snuck in under the radar. (I’m looking at you, “draw what your feelings smell like” page.)

It turns out that sometimes the best self-help is found in a crayon box. So what started as me trying not to turn our house into a dish of baking soda and peroxide (useless!) became a whimsical, healing, laugh-through-it project. Now it’s out there in the world, helping others sniff their way through their own big feelings.

Moral of the story? Not all stink is bad. Not all books are planned. And sometimes, therapy comes with stripes.