There are stories we tell because they’re fun.
There are stories we tell because they won’t leave us alone.
And then there are stories like Millie’s Daughter—stories we tell because, if we don’t, we’re not being honest. Not with ourselves, not with the world, and not with the people we write for.
This is one of those stories.
Millie Anderson didn’t arrive in my imagination all at once. She crept in gradually, quiet and guarded, much like the way she moves through the first pages of this novel. I didn’t set out to write about domestic abuse. I didn’t plan to write a novel with a knife pressed against the throat of a mother’s love. But once Millie appeared—scarred, brilliant, determined—I couldn’t look away.
She had to leave. She had to run. And I had to follow.
What Millie’s Daughter Is About—And What It’s Really About
On the surface, Millie’s Daughter is a suspenseful story about escape: a mother and daughter flee an abusive partner and try to rebuild their lives in New York. But at its core, this book is about something deeper—something more haunting.
It’s about what happens after the escape. It’s about what courage looks like when you’re still afraid. It’s about a mother’s quiet resolve, a child’s growing awareness, and the brutal cost of breaking free from someone who refuses to let go.
Millie is intelligent. She’s resourceful. She’s a dedicated mother. But she’s also a woman with bipolar II disorder navigating trauma, guilt, and uncertainty. That duality is what drew me in—and what made writing her story so important.
Why This Story Matters to Me
I’ve spent much of my life in the world of law and logic—working as a CPA, then as an attorney, and now as a story coach and novelist. But no amount of logic prepares you for the emotional terrain of writing about a woman trying to keep herself and her child alive, both physically and emotionally.
In some ways, Millie’s Daughter is the most emotionally honest book I’ve written. It carries within it not just suspense and heartbreak, but also flickers of grace—tiny moments of tenderness and light that keep Millie and Molly moving forward.
And maybe that’s the real story here: the refusal to surrender to darkness, even when it’s all around you.
One Final Thought
As I prepare to release Millie’s Daughter in just a couple of weeks, I’m inviting you to walk this road with me. In the next few blog posts, I’ll be introducing you to Millie, to her daughter Molly, and to the world they’re fighting to survive in.
But for today, I want to leave you with a question:
What fictional character’s escape story has stayed with you the longest—and why?
Leave a comment below if you’d like. I’d love to hear your thoughts as we begin this journey together.
—Richard
The Pencil-Driven Life 