60 second q&a with yvonne n.k.: “writing is both creative and disciplined.”

When I opened Yvonne N.K.’s book Her Gracious Return: A Journal to Returning to Yourself, I opened to Entry Six, which is titled: “You Are Not Behind: Trusting Your Pace When the World Moves Too Fast.” The piece starts like this:

“This one is inescapable.

We all face it at some point.

That quiet ache.

That 2 a.m. soul-searching.

That deep, gnawing question: ‘Why am I not further along by now?’”

I poured through the rest of that poem. And then, the rest of the book. I got immersed into it in a way that felt like I was meeting myself again. Maybe it just felt good to meet someone who writes about and clearly knows a similar journey back to yourself after some years of self-abandonment.

Yvonne N.K., the writer of those words and the voice responsible for a couple of very good, very clear lightbulb moments for me recently, is our Q&A this week.

I’m honored, on so many levels, to introduce her to you and to share her voice with you here.

– Meg

important post script: yvonne is the cousin of our very talented operations assistant, ada clarke, proving that talent is, in fact, genetic.

toth shop (ts): In ten words or less, what is / how do you define a “sacred pause”?

Yvonne N.K. (YNK): The Sacred Pause is where truth meets purpose before blooming.

ts: You have written and published several books under your own publishing company, House of Josephine Publishing. What is your thinking, writing, and publishing process like?

YNK: Several projects under the House of Josephine are still in progress. Still, I have been deeply immersed in the writing and publishing process through building it as the creative home of my publishing imprint. The vision behind it is deeply personal to me – I am building a publishing house that is welcoming, thoughtful, and open to creative expression in its many forms. I want it to be a space where writers and artists feel seen, respected, and encouraged, even when their vision is unconventional. At House of Josephine, every story is met with reverence. We listen closely to what the work is asking to become and make room for what is new.

My writing process begins inwardly, often subconsciously. It usually starts from a raw place through thoughts, reflections, emotions, and lived experiences that have been building over time. I do not force perfection onto the page at the beginning. I gather the raw material first, then return to shape it with greater clarity, structure, and intention.

For me, writing is both creative and disciplined. It is not only inspiration. It feels like a call I am answering. Especially with my journals, I write from the belief that someone, somewhere, needs those words. I want people to feel less alone in what they are carrying, feeling, or surviving.

ts: What do you say to someone who has thoughts and feelings, but struggles to put pen to paper?

YNK: To anyone who struggles to put pen to paper, I would say: just begin. Do not wait for your first draft to sound polished. Write what is true before you worry about making it beautiful. The rawest thoughts are often the most original. Writing takes drafts, revisiting, and discovery. The key is to keep going. Write it as it comes, then return to it. That is where clarity begins.

ts: Your book, The Sacred Pause: My Waiting Season, invites a reader to find meaning in stillness and trust that even in the waiting season, growth is still happening. Those waiting seasons can be hard – emotionally, energetically, physically. What is the one line or thought you repeat to yourself when it is tough?

YNK: I focus on the strengths I am developing during hard seasons and find purpose in them. I remind myself that it is not an empty season. It is teaching me, recentering me, and preparing me to become someone who can hold and sustain what is coming.

ts: Both The Sacred Pause and Her Gracious Return are part-poetry and part-journal. What inspired you to make both pieces interactive experiences, with the journal/workbook component?

YNK: I wanted each book to feel like a conversation rather than a monologue. Poetry opens the heart, while the journal space gives the reader room to answer back. Reflection becomes more powerful when the reader can place their own experience beside the words. That interactive structure invites people to slow down, notice themselves, and become active participants in their own healing. These journals are meant to sit with you, not speak over you.

ts: Every person we interview answers this same question last: Mile 18 is generally considered to be one of the hardest miles in a marathon. You’re hitting a wall; you’re forced to dig deep. What is mile 18 in your line of work, or at this point in your career, and what do you tell yourself when you find yourself there?

YNK: Mile 18 is the point in my work where doubt begins to sound louder than progress. It is where I start to question whether the words are enough or whether the vision is worth carrying forward. In that space, I remind myself that endurance is a form of grace. I tell myself to take the next step, even if it is small, because the work has never failed to meet me on the other side of persistence. This is the moment when I return to my anchoring line: “This is not an empty season. It is teaching me, recentering me, and preparing me to become someone who can hold and sustain what is coming.”