Okay. This one comes from a very specific place of longing and mild comedic despair, so settle in.
I want my songs in a Hallmark movie.
There. I said it. Out loud. On the internet. To all of you.
I have wanted this for longer than I can reasonably explain. There is something about a Hallmark movie, with the cozy small town and the baker who is also secretly an artist and the guy who comes home for the holidays and the whole thing wrapped in soft lighting and a very specific shade of hope, that makes me think: my music belongs HERE. This is my people. This is my energy. This is what my catalog sounds like visually.
My Kind of Christmas? Hallmark movie. My Thanksgiving? Hallmark movie opening scene. The Crisp Fall Air album I’m about to release in September? That is literally the soundtrack to a Hallmark fall film that doesn’t exist yet but absolutely should.
I have done zero things wrong as a songwriter for this lane. The music is warm. It is emotional without being heavy. It is the exact quality of feeling that Hallmark movies specialize in bottling. I have ALBUMS of it.
And yet.
Here is the problem. Getting your music into a Hallmark movie, or really into any film or TV show, requires something called sync licensing, which I talked about in my last post. It requires relationships with music supervisors, the people who actually choose the music for a scene. It requires either being signed to a label that has those relationships, or having a sync agent who pitches on your behalf, or having a TAXI-style listing service placement, or knowing someone who knows someone who knows the right person.
I am a one-woman operation in Southern California with a Suno AI subscription, a Claude collaboration, a CD Baby distribution account, and a very strong belief in this music. I do not have a music supervisor’s email address. I do not have a sync agent. I do not have a label. I have you.
And here is the wild, hopeful, completely sincere thing I want to say: one of you might know someone.
I am not joking. The music industry runs on relationships and the world is smaller than we think. If you know someone who works in music supervision, if you know someone at Hallmark or Lifetime or any of the holiday movie channels, if you have a cousin who does sound for a film production company, I would love an introduction.
In the meantime, here is what I know: the music exists. Every album I release is a song that could underscore a scene. My Thanksgiving playing over a table full of family. Something from Crisp Fall Air playing as the main character walks through a small town in October. Be Kind Rewind playing in a 90s flashback sequence in a holiday rom com. (Yes. That works. I have thought about this.)
The music is ready. I am ready. I just need a door.
If you love my music, here is the most powerful thing you can do right now: share it. Use it in your content. Tag me. Tell your network. Put it in front of people who have the connections I don’t have yet. You never know whose hands it might reach.
Stream everything on Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon Music, Deezer, and Pandora. Follow me on Instagram, YouTube, and Facebook. And please, get on my email list so when the Hallmark deal comes through (I am manifesting it, I am putting it in writing right now, I am not joking), you will be the first to hear about it.
Dear Hallmark: I’m here. I’m ready. My music is warm and cozy and hopeful and real. Call me.
Actually, I don’t know if Hallmark calls people. Email me. DM me. Send a carrier pigeon. I will be watching.




