About Pettyfeather Publishing

Pettyfeather began the way many good things do—right after something else fell apart.

A major project of mine dissolved unexpectedly, leaving me with something I hadn’t had in years: time. Time to breathe, time to play, time to remember that long before I became a person with Very Serious Degrees and a Very Serious Adult Job, I was a kid who wanted—desperately—to write books. All kinds of books. Smart books, strange books, beautiful books, deeply unserious books. Books that made people think, laugh, trace, color, wonder.

So in that unexpected pause, I finally started.

And then my family started with me.

Pettyfeather became our tiny creative cottage—built from the collective energy of people who had always been a little stifled, a little overworked, a little too dignified for their own good. A family of lapsed Catholics and observant Christians, art hobbyists and science nerds, trivia gremlins and history lovers. People whose day jobs require decorum, restraint, and absolutely no public displays of whimsy. So we created a home where whimsy was the point.

We write under pen names—partly for privacy, partly for the delicious freedom of it. Behind a pseudonym, no one has to be perfect. No one has to impress their colleagues. No one has to worry about flopping, failing, or looking utterly ridiculous. We get to make whatever we want: silly books, earnest books, weird books, joyful books. And people read them. Some even love them. What an unbelievable gift.

Pettyfeather is now a growing little house of imprints and experiments—pop history, coloring books, tracing journals, creative workbooks, mythology, satire, saints, stoics, romantasy, cognitive fitness, stained glass flowers, and whatever else we dream up next. Each book is a small act of permission: to play, to explore, to learn, to create without judgment.

If you’re here, thank you for being part of that.

Everyone should start a publishing cottage.

—Pamela & the (growing) Pettyfeather Family