Since I was a little girl, I have always enjoyed the hunt. First daughter of a habitual deer hunter, I filled the shoes of the little boy he had probably been hoping to tote around the woods. Thankfully, for the both of us, I took to it rather quickly. I cherish the memories of those times and grew to love the quiet of the early morning, the adrenaline of the kill, and the comraderie of the afternoon.

I have learned over the last few years that chasing a song isn't much different.

Sometimes it takes patience, a lot of sitting and waiting and hoping something will show up. Sometimes, stalking through the weeds and the fallen trees and the thorny things in your head that hurt to think about. Sometimes, they just show up right under your nose.

I sat in a stand for three hours the night that I killed the deer I have since named "Lindsey Buckingham." I was close to calling it, tires of watching the wind and trying to make something out of every squirrel that crunched a leaf under my seat. I looked down at my phone to send the "come get me" text to my dad, and when I looked back up, Lindsey was right in my sights. At the time, he was the biggest deer ever killed on the property.

When I moved to Nashville, I hung ol' Lindsey up in my house. I gave him a prime spot with an unobstructed view of my living room. Adorned with a crown of sparkling Christmas lights, he is the king of the castle and I aptly named my home

"Buckingham Palace" in his honor (all 900 sq. ft. of it).

I didn't know it at the time, but my living room would become the setting for many of the significant moments and memories I've captured over the last four years. Not only that, it has been the place where I have written some of my favorite songs. Some hard fought and won, some easy as a Sunday morning. Some that made cuts and some that healed scars — Buckingham Palace has heard it all.

"Letters from Buckingham Palace" is a small collection of those songs, captured just the way ther were written — with a voice, a guitar, and a bit of raw emotion.