The Heroine’s Journey of Victoria Hart

What is the best thing that I love about my work? The best thing I love about my work is that it is creation without permission. I get to follow the rhythm of my own mind — to write, imagine, and build at my own pace. Even when I collaborate with AI, it’s my spark that lights the fire. Every idea becomes a reflection of my healing, a reminder that creativity is both sanctuary and rebellion. My work isn’t just what I do — it’s where I come home to myself.

What is my idea of happiness? My idea of happiness is simple: peace of mind and the freedom to create without pressure. It’s being able to do what I love on my own terms, whether that’s writing with a cup of coffee or brainstorming ideas late at night. Happiness isn’t about everything being perfect — it’s about feeling grounded, grateful, and free to be myself.


What is my greatest fear? My greatest fear once lived in the shadows of silence — the kind that comes from being misunderstood rather than unseen. For years, I was told to soften my edges, to quiet my conviction, to make myself smaller so others could feel more comfortable. In protecting my peace, I built boundaries that sometimes felt like walls. But in that stillness, I discovered something unexpected: clarity. The world may have misread my strength, but it never defined it. My voice is steady now — not loud, but certain — and I’ve learned that presence isn’t about being noticed; it’s about standing in your truth, even when no one else understands it.

What is the trait that I most deplore in myself? I don’t waste energy searching for what’s “wrong” with me anymore. That kind of thinking only feeds the parts of us that doubt our worth. Instead, I look at my perceived flaws as unfinished lessons — qualities still learning how to serve me instead of sabotage me. The more I accept that truth, the freer I become. Growth doesn’t come from self-punishment; it comes from self-awareness.

Which living persons in my profession do i most admire? I’ve never modeled myself after anyone in my profession. My path wasn’t built from admiration — it was built from survival, curiosity, and the quiet pursuit of freedom. Writing found me when I stopped chasing stability and started searching for purpose. I admire those who create from honesty, who turn pain into something useful — but mostly, I admire the part of myself that refused to stay silent. I’m not following anyone’s footsteps. I’m making my own.

What is the thing that I dislike the most in my work? What I dislike most about my work is also what refines me. My mind loves to turn things over—analyzing, questioning, perfecting—to make sure every word carries its full weight. Some might call it overthinking; I call it devotion. I’ve learned that this constant reflection isn’t weakness, it’s discipline. It’s the part of me that refuses to settle for half-truths or hollow expression. My high standards come from respect—for language, for the reader, and for myself. It’s not about chasing perfection, but about honoring what’s real. The same instinct that once fed my self-doubt now fuels my strength. It reminds me that growth doesn’t come from silence—it comes from showing up, even when your voice still trembles.

When and where was I the happiest, in my work? The happiest moments are the ones where time dissolves — when I slip into that quiet current between thought and emotion, and the words seem to write themselves. It’s in those hours that pain turns into purpose, and the chaos in my chest finds rhythm on the page. My happiness blooms in the stillness after a story is written — when I read it back and realize I’ve translated something raw into something whole. And when someone reaches out to say, “I felt that,” it’s like the universe nods in quiet agreement. I don’t chase perfection; I chase the connection — the reminder that creation is healing, and every word I write is another step toward becoming who I was always meant to be.

If I could, what would I change about myself? I wouldn’t change a thing — not the scars, not the stumbles, not even the moments I mistook survival for peace. Every chapter, even the painful ones, led me exactly here. I’ve learned that growth isn’t about becoming someone new; it’s about remembering who I was before the world told me otherwise. My journey isn’t perfect, but it’s mine — raw, unedited, and still unfolding. I trust that I am where I’m meant to be, because if I were meant to be somewhere else, I would be. Every lesson, every heartbreak, and every quiet victory has shaped the woman who writes these words. So no, I wouldn’t change anything — I’d just keep walking, learning, and loving myself a little more along the way.


What is my greatest achievement in work? My greatest achievement isn’t a single milestone — it’s giving myself permission to be proud of how far I’ve come. It’s one thing to say “I’m proud of myself,” but another to truly believe it. Learning that I don’t need anyone else’s validation to measure my worth has been its own quiet revolution. Every word I write, every idea I create, is a reminder that I’m no longer waiting for approval — I’m living in my own.

Where would I most like to live? I want to live in a place that feels like peace — where the energy is calm, the noise is honest, and I can hear my own thoughts without interruption. It’s less about geography and more about alignment: somewhere creativity doesn’t need permission and healing happens quietly. Wherever that is, that’s home enough for me.

What is my most treasured possession? What I value most can’t be seen or measured — it’s the part of me that stays steady when everything else shifts. It’s quiet, unshakable, and entirely mine. I guard it carefully, not out of fear, but out of respect for how hard it was to understand its worth.

What is my most marked characteristic? What defines me most is my ability to see beneath the surface — to read what isn’t said and still stay grounded in truth. I sense energy, intent, and emotion clearly, but I don’t let it steer me off course. I understand people deeply without losing myself in the process. It’s a balance of instinct and discipline, and it shapes the way I lead, create, and connect.

What is my most inspirational location, in my city? The mountains will always be my place of clarity. Out here in the West, there’s no shortage of overlooks that take your breath away — places where the air feels lighter and my thoughts finally have room to breathe. The stillness hums with its own kind of wisdom. Every ridge, every shadow reminds me how small chaos really is when you’re standing still long enough to see the whole horizon.

What is my favorite place to eat and drink, in my city? An hour or so away, there’s that nostalgic burger-and-shake joint with a model train winding overhead. It’s loud in all the right ways — clatter of trays, laughter, the scent of fries mixed with sugar from the shakes. The train circles high along the ceiling, tiny lights twinkling, reminding me of childhood wonder. Inside, there’s something comforting about the familiar: worn booths, bright menus, the feel of leather on vinyl seats, heat rising from the grill as the past and present overlap. It’s one of the few places where I feel anchored — like my creativity can stretch out across the table in front of me, unchecked by time or judgment. There’s pleasure in knowing I drove that hour just to eat, breathe, and remember that joy doesn’t need perfection — just presence.

What books influenced my life and how? I’ve never been much of a reader, at least not in the traditional sense. I learn best by watching, doing, and feeling my way through experience. The few books that have held my attention were usually biographies or stories rooted in truth — I connect more with real lives than imagined ones. Romance novels and fiction never quite pulled me in unless the emotion felt raw and believable. In many ways, my own life became the story that taught me most — the one that shaped my voice, my empathy, and my drive to write in a way that others can feel seen, even if they’re not readers either.

You Only Die Once. What music would I listen on my last day? I don’t know what music I’d listen to — maybe that’s the point. I’ve never been one to plan the soundtrack before I feel the moment. Whatever it would be, it’d have to match the energy — calm if I’m at peace, loud if I’m not. Music, to me, is about honesty, not habit. I’ll know it when I hear it.

Who is my hero or heroine in fiction? The fictional characters who stay with me are the ones who walk through fire and keep their integrity intact. They’re resilient, fiercely independent, and unshaken by the noise of the world. Their strength isn’t born from perfection, but from knowing who they are and refusing to surrender that truth — no matter how dark the storm gets. I see pieces of my own journey in them: the quiet rebellion, the steady moral compass, the courage to stand for what’s right even when it’s unpopular. They remind me that true power isn’t in dominating others — it’s in holding your ground with grace, grit, and an unbreakable belief in what’s real.

Who are my heroes and heroines in real life? The people who inspire me most aren’t famous or flawless—they’re the ones who radiate genuine energy. As an empath, I’m drawn to those whose presence feels steady, kind, and real. I admire people who listen with intention, who speak truth without ego, and who lift others simply by being themselves. They don’t dismiss, they don’t perform—they connect. After 55 years of observing, growing, and learning, I’ve come to see that real heroes are the ones who remind you to keep your heart open while standing firmly in your own truth.

Which movie would i recommend to see once in a lifetime? If I had to choose, it would be A Time to Kill and Ever After. Both are worlds apart in setting, yet they echo the same truth — courage wears many faces. A Time to Kill holds a mirror to humanity, forcing us to confront justice, morality, and the weight of empathy in its rawest form. That closing argument still leaves me breathless — it’s not just acting, it’s truth laid bare. Ever After, on the other hand, reminds me that strength doesn’t always roar; sometimes it speaks through grace, intelligence, and quiet defiance. Together, they capture the balance I strive for — compassion with backbone, and resilience without apology.

What role play stories in my life and work? Stories are how I translate emotion into understanding. Whether I’m writing fiction, nonfiction, or creating a coloring book, I embed emotion into every line, shade, and word. It’s how I turn pain into clarity, chaos into calm, and silence into truth. Storytelling gives me freedom — the kind that comes from expressing what can’t be spoken out loud. Every story is both a mirror and a release, a way to heal while helping others see a piece of themselves reflected in the words.

What do the words ‘You are the storyteller of your own life’ to me? To me, it means I’m the captain of my own ship — the one who decides the direction, the pace, and the meaning behind every chapter. Life doesn’t hand out perfect plots, but I get to choose how I respond, how I grow, and how I rewrite the narrative when needed. Being the storyteller of my own life means owning my truth without apology and knowing that even the storms serve a purpose in shaping the story I’m meant to tell.

Who is my greatest fan, sponsor, partner in crime? My greatest supporter is someone who’s known me long enough to see both my storms and my stillness — a reminder that real friendship doesn’t demand constant presence, only genuine connection. She listens without fixing, celebrates without envy, and quietly reminds me that I’m seen. Beyond that, my daughter’s belief in me, even through the weight of shared challenges, keeps me grounded. Together, they represent the rare kind of faith that asks for nothing in return.

Which people or companies would I like to work with ? I’m grateful to already collaborate with Beehiiv, where I write under the pen name Fionna, and V. Hart on Amazon KDP, where I share my stories and digital creations. Both platforms allow me to grow organically and create freely without financial pressure. Looking ahead, I’d love to connect with spaces like Medium and Curios, which value storytelling, healing, and human connection. Tools like Canva and Notion inspire my creative process, helping ideas take shape with clarity and purpose. I deeply admire how Headspace and Calm blend mindfulness with storytelling to reach people on an emotional level. I also see great potential in collaborating with OpenAI or Anthropic, since AI is a natural part of my creative workflow. Each of these possibilities reflects the kind of partnerships I believe in—built on shared vision, mutual respect, and authentic growth. For me, collaboration isn’t about speed or scale; it’s about meaning, alignment, and creative integrity. That’s the kind of work I want to build—and the kind of people I hope to build it with.

What project am I looking forward to work on? The project I’m most looking forward to is expanding Pulse of the Hunt into a full series — a dark, empowering exploration of gaslighting, survival, and reclaiming truth. Alongside that, I’m building a collection of journals, planners, and word search books that merge creativity with emotional healing, giving others the same outlet that saved me. Each piece I create feels like a conversation between resilience and imagination — a reminder that even our broken parts can become art. What excites me most right now, though, is what I can’t yet define — the collaboration I feel on the horizon, guided by timing and intuition, almost as if the stars themselves are setting the stage. My path is unfolding at the perfect pace, one project, one alignment, one brave yes at a time.

Where can you see me or my work? Right now, my stories are finding their way into the world, one page at a time. You can discover my published works on Amazon KDP, and I’m in the process of expanding to Barnes & Noble and other platforms that support independent creators.

I’m self-taught and still learning as I go, moving at a pace that allows me to create with purpose rather than pressure. Each story I share carries a piece of my journey — a reflection of growth, healing, and resilience. I trust that every creation will find its way to the readers who need it most, in its own time and rhythm.

What do the words “Passion Never Retires” mean to me? To me, passion never retires means that purpose doesn’t punch a clock. It’s not something you age out of or walk away from — it’s something that lives in your bones and wakes up with you every morning. My passion for writing came later in life, born out of healing, necessity, and a refusal to return to a life that dimmed my spirit. What started as survival became sanctuary — a space where I rediscovered joy, purpose, and peace in creating something that feels like me. Passion, for me, isn’t just about work — it’s about being alive with intention, love, and authenticity. And that kind of energy doesn’t fade — it evolves.

Which creative professionals should Peter invite to tell their story? “I’d love to connect with organizations like Alliance of Independent Authors, Indie Author Connect, or Authors Alliance — those who support indie creators, build community, and offer tools for reaching readers ethically. I’m also interested in resources from places like Authors Guild or Society of Authors’ Self-Publishers Group to learn better marketing strategies and how to protect my literary rights. Even with limited funds, I believe collaboration, learning, and partnerships with groups that share my values can help my work reach more people and start generating income.”

How can you contact me?

https://amazon.com/author/victoriahart2711
https://linktr.ee/fionnashrek2711
https://www.fiverr.com/s/yvXNG3z

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