One Year Later: Meet Snugsquash
June 18, 2026
A year ago, I sat in a meeting that changed my life.
After more than five years with the company, I was told my position was being outsourced. I remember hearing the words “it’s not because of your performance,” but that didn’t make the uncertainty any easier.
(🐿️ If her performance wasn’t the problem, then maybe ~ hear us out ~ the problem was the people making the decisions. We’re naming no names. But we COULD.)
(🐿️ “Not your performance” is corporate code for “we made a bad decision to take financial advantage of others, and we’re too cowardly to own it.” We said what we said.)
Like many people who suddenly find themselves without a job, I worried about everything.
How would I pay the bills?
What would I do next?
What if no one hired me again?
(🐿️ We offered her a position in the tree‑hollow communications department. She declined. Something about “no Wi‑Fi.”)
(🐿️ We offered her acorns. She said that wouldn’t cover utilities. We disagree.)
What I didn’t know then was that this greedy corporate decision would push me toward something no one can take from me:
~Creating children’s books~
(🐿️ We supported this career pivot. We voted 7–1 in favor. The one dissenting vote was from a squirrel who thought she should open a nut bakery.)
Over the last year, there have been plenty of moments when I questioned myself. There were late nights learning new programs, figuring out publishing, building a website, creating social media accounts, designing bookmarks, making buttons and magnets, and learning more about Amazon KDP than I ever thought possible… oh, and their inconsistencies, which are no longer a surprise.
(🐿️ We have a running list of KDP inconsistencies. It’s longer than our tails.)
(🐿️ We have a 42‑page document titled “KDP Shenanigans: A Field Study.”)
There were mistakes too.
Pages that needed to be corrected.
Books that needed to be re‑uploaded.
Files that disappeared.
(🐿️ She deleted the entire Home page. We screamed. We fainted. One of us needed emotional support sunflower seeds.)
And most recently, a little character named Snugsquash who temporarily “lost his spine” when Amazon decided my book wasn’t thick enough to print text on the spine ~ even though it was required on the previous books.
(🐿️ We no longer panic. We simply sigh and add another line to the Shenanigans Document.)
I laughed… eventually.
(🐿️ We heard the pre‑laughter words. We cannot repeat them. This is a family‑friendly blog.)
Because that’s what this journey has taught me:
Sometimes things don’t go according to plan.
But that doesn’t mean you stop.
You adjust.
You learn.
You keep moving forward.
(🐿️ Forward is good. Forward usually leads to snacks.)
And now, one year later, I’m excited to introduce the newest member of the Modo and Jiblet family.
Meet Snugsquash
Snugsquash is a shy, wide‑footed forest friend who feels different from everyone around him.
He worries about fitting in.
He worries about what others think.
He worries about being accepted.
(🐿️ We told him he could join our tree anytime. He said he needed to “emotionally prepare.” We respect that.)
But through kindness, friendship, and a little courage, he discovers something important:
Being different isn’t something to hide.
It’s something to celebrate.
I think many of us ~ children and adults alike~ can relate to that feeling.
(🐿️ Especially those of us with unusually fluffy tails. We embrace it.)
Thank You
To everyone who has supported me this past year, especially my family and close friends.
Thank you for reading.
Thank you for sharing posts.
Thank you for purchasing books.
Thank you for encouraging me when I wasn’t sure what came next.
(🐿️ We also thank these humans. They give her snacks. When she has snacks, we have snacks.)
(🐿️ We would also like to thank ourselves. We worked very hard supervising this human.)
And a huge thank‑you to my friend Patty ~ my unofficial editor and official typo‑catching superhero.
The squirrels insist she has personally prevented at least three panic‑inducing acorn‑flinging episodes per book.
(🐿️ Three is the minimum. We have receipts.)
Every message and kind word has meant more than you know.
This little dream continues because of people like you.
(🐿️ And because of us. We would like partial credit. Maybe a corner of the acknowledgments page.)
And while I still don’t know exactly where this path will lead, I do know one thing:
I’m grateful I kept going.
Here’s to one year of learning, growing, creating, and believing in new beginnings.
And here’s to Snugsquash. ❤️
May you always find friends who use their words with kindness.
— Tricia
(🐿️ And may your squirrels always be loud, loyal, and only slightly unhinged.)