Life & Work with Manon Rinsma of Beverly Hills

Today we’d like to introduce you to Manon Rinsma

Alright, so thank you so much for sharing your story and insight with our readers. To kick things off, can you tell us a bit about how you got started?
For as long as I can remember, storytelling has been my way of making sense of the world. I grew up in the Netherlands, and when I was twelve, I lost my mother to brain cancer. The day she died, I sat behind my computer and decided I wanted to write a book. I typed, “A life without a mother—how would that be?” An hour later, she was gone. That same day, I made a promise to myself: instead of imagining what it would be like to lose her, one day, I would write about the experience, the cancer journey, a daughter watching from the sidelines. It took 13 years—half my life at the time—but in 2018, I finally fulfilled that promise by publishing my first memoir, 13 Diamonds: Life Before Death from a Child’s Perspective.

I always knew there would be a sequel. My journey of growth may have begun with loss, but it didn’t end there. After my mother’s funeral, the world turned silent…but not for long. At that young age, I didn’t have the tools—or, as I later realized, the space—to process such profound grief. The sympathy cards were still on display when another woman forced her way into my life, taking my mother’s place, erasing her. Writing became my outlet, my survival mechanism. For the longest time, I did what I thought was the only way forward: I kept moving, trying to make my mother proud, chasing accomplishments to numb the pain, filling every void with something new. But grief has a way of catching up with you, especially when ignored for too long. In my case, I wasn’t just grieving—I was angry. Angry that my mother was taken from me. Angrier still at the psychological warfare that followed. It dimmed my light, like a gas lamp slowly burning lower. I was not welcome in my own home. I didn’t belong anywhere.

A decade later, enough was enough. I had rebuilt my life in Amsterdam—living close to one of my brothers, in a six-year relationship, surrounded by friends I still cherish today. I had carved out a life of my own, created distance. But the Netherlands is a small country. It still wasn’t far enough. I longed for something more, a place I could truly call mine. Then, in one pivotal year, everything ended—my master’s degree was complete, my apartment lease was up, and I had kicked my cheating boyfriend to the curb. I had nothing to lose. I felt like I could do anything. Instead of searching for stability, as I always had, I packed a backpack and left.

That is what my new book, A Far Cry from Yesterday: Finding Tomorrow in Distant Lands, is about. It is about healing, courage, and reinvention. It’s about the search for belonging when it feels like all roads have ended. A journey that spanned four continents. A journey without a set destination—only a deep need to confront my grief and the unresolved anger I had carried for too long. I couldn’t change what had already happened. But I could choose to change where I was going. I traveled far and wide, for almost a year. I crossed North America by Greyhound, took the Trans-Siberian and Mongolian train from Moscow to Beijing, continued on to New Zealand and Australia, Thailand, circled around Europe, and drove the Pamir Highway—“the Roof of the World.” That road led me to… book spoiler… Los Angeles. A place I could finally call my own.

We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
No, but I wouldn’t change it. It got me where I am today. The struggles—grief, uncertainty, heartbreak—have all been part of the journey. They’ve taught me resilience, self-reliance, and the power of setting my own course. Traveling alone tested me—loneliness, fear, and exhaustion were constant companions. I learned to trust my instincts, lean on strangers who became friends, and embrace uncertainty in ways I never expected. I carried insecurities, too—told my dreams were unrealistic, that I should stay grounded, that even being “normal” would make me crazy enough. But I kept going. That journey became the foundation of my new memoir—a raw, personal story of loss, self-discovery, and human connection.

Writing it was both cathartic and exposing. But finishing it—that happened in an entirely different chapter of my life. I carried this book with me for years, mapping it out almost seven years ago, writing in bursts, always finding reasons to pause. Then, when I became pregnant, something shifted. The urgency to finish grew stronger—maybe because I was about to bring a new life into the world, or maybe because I knew that if I didn’t make space for this story now, I might never get the chance. Or perhaps it wasn’t just about making space for it—maybe it was about finally moving forward, unburdened by the memories that had been waiting to be put into words.

After my daughter was born, most of my ambitions had to wait. But in those quiet hours, when the world shrank down to just the two of us—holding her against my chest as she slept, typing on my phone in the dim light, chipping away at chapters in the early mornings—I found a way. Through a fog of love and sleep deprivation, of firsts and endless nights, of learning and unlearning, I finished my manuscript.

As 2025 came into view, I knew when I had to publish my book—gently releasing it into the world. I wanted to honor my mother on February 1st—twenty years after her passing, her love still shaping every step I take.

Now, as my daughter grows, I finally get mother-daughter time back. Uninterrupted, unshaken, ours. And as I step into this next phase, with my book complete and my husband and daughter by my side, I know that no matter where life takes me, I will always have a place to belong.

Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?
I like to dig deep. Writing isn’t just storytelling for me—it’s a way to never forget. When I write, I’m back in that moment, seeing everything, feeling everything. It’s a specific kind of torture, really, but I’ve learned that the best stories are found in the rough terrain. A Far Cry from Yesterday and 13 Diamonds are a testament to that. Revisiting every bit of hurt, every buried emotion, every moment of doubt wasn’t easy. But I knew my story wasn’t just mine—it was for anyone who’s ever felt lost, alone, or searching for something more.

Beyond writing, I work at the intersection of art and accountability. I’ve spent years collaborating with major studios—National Geographic, Lionsgate, NBC Universal, WarnerMedia—coordinating Key Art campaigns that tell powerful visual stories. Separately, I also work as an accountability coach, holding myself and others to a high standard—which certainly drives my husband up the wall sometimes, haha. I’m very grateful. Grateful for the opportunities I’ve had, the people I’ve met, and the chance to shape such a diverse professional life.

What sets me apart? I’m not the first to experience loss, to travel the world, or to write about it. But I’m willing to be raw, lay bare my heart, to ask the hard questions, to explore the depths of the human psyche. Whether through writing, creative campaigns, or coaching, my goal is always to inspire, to spark conversation, and to remind people that even in the darkest moments, there’s always a way forward.

Is there a quality that you most attribute to your success?
Resilience. The ability to rise, even when it feels impossible—the willingness to sit with pain, find meaning in struggle, and move forward one step at a time. Life will knock you down—sometimes in ways you never see coming—but what matters is how you get back up. I’ve learned to embrace uncertainty, trust the process even when the path isn’t clear, and keep going, even when self-doubt creeps in.​​

I also believe in the power of curiosity. Every conversation, every journey, every challenge is an opportunity to learn. The willingness to step into the unknown, to ask questions, to seek understanding—that’s where growth happens.

And above all, I believe in the strength of storytelling. Stories connect us, heal us, and remind us that we’re not alone. That’s why I write. That’s why I create. And that’s why I’ll keep going—no matter how winding the road may be.

Pricing:

• A Far Cry from Yesterday – Paperback: $18.99 (Amazon)
• A Far Cry from Yesterday – Ebook: $7.99 (Kindle)

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17714199.Manon_Rinsma
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/manonrinsma/
• LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/manonrinsma/
• Other: Buy book on Amazon: https://shorturl.at/NJfxG

Image Credits
Dustin Sheffield