Redirecting.work
Michelle Halket:
Redefining “Enough” Through a Company of One
For a decade, Michelle Halket worked in market research at Nielsen, advising major retailers on product assortment, category strategy, and consumer behavior. Based in Vancouver, her role offered stability, intellectual engagement, and a clear corporate trajectory. Advancement though meant relocating to Toronto, stepping more fully into head office life, and embracing the familiar corporate trade-offs that come with ambition.
Like many women in professional roles, Michelle navigated these years alongside major life transitions. She married later than many of her peers and became a mother in her mid thirties. Canada’s generous parental leave policies allowed her to return to work part-time, and Nielsen was supportive and flexible. Yet something still felt off.
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Despite working fewer days, Michelle sensed she was caught between worlds. She was neither fully present at work nor fully present at home. For her, there was no crisis in her job, no toxic culture, no dramatic break. Instead, there was a quieter realization: she felt bored, slightly stagnant, and increasingly clear that the work would always be there, but her children would not be young forever.
A comment from an older colleague crystallized this tension. The woman warned her: pay now or pay later. Invest deeply in your children when they’re young, or expect to reckon with the consequences later in different forms. That idea lingered and ultimately helped Michelle decide it was time for a radical pause.
Around 2008, at 38, with two children aged four and two, Michelle and her husband made a choice that startled their peers. They quit their jobs, rented out their Vancouver home, and decamped to Maui for what they framed as a sabbatical. They had a willingness to live simply and an openness to uncertainty.
The Transition Process
The Hawaii chapter lasted less than six months but its impact far outlived the stay. The time away functioned as a cocoon: a deliberate slowing down, away from career ladders and peer comparisons, where new questions could surface.
Michelle had never considered herself a writer, but she loved books. During that period, she and her husband often talked about how difficult it was for authors, especially unknown ones, to get published. At the same time, the early signals of a shift were appearing: e-books were emerging, digital distribution costs were near zero, and traditional publishing was slow to adapt.
Michelle recognized a pattern. She had spent years in market research spotting trends and understanding consumer behavior. Applying that lens, she began to see opportunity, not in chasing passion, but in identifying a structural gap. What if she could help writers publish digitally, bypassing some of the barriers of traditional publishing?
In 2009, she began by doing the most basic version of the work: formatting manuscripts, adding generic covers, and distributing them through early e-book platforms long before Amazon Kindle became dominant. She learned by doing, using Twitter to follow technical conversations and teaching herself what she needed along the way.
Over time, her instincts sharpened. She moved from publishing “anything” to curating work she genuinely liked. Editing, cover design, and typesetting followed. What began as a scrappy digital experiment slowly evolved into a full-fledged publishing house.
The growth was anything but instant. Michelle worked part-time for years, often putting in hours late at night after her children were asleep. It took three to five years to replace her former corporate salary. But financial ambition was never the sole driver. Supported by her husband’s income, she had the freedom to let the business grow at a human pace.
Timing played a role. When Kindle adoption surged, Michelle already had a catalog ready. Later, she leaned into social-media-driven poetry, publishing voices that resonated deeply with young readers exploring identity, trauma, love, and belonging. What some dismissed as a trend paid the bills and helped define her niche.
What Is She Doing Today?
Today, Michelle is the founder of Central Avenue Publishing, a traditional independent publisher with global reach. While she works largely solo, she is supported by freelance editors, designers, and a part-time assistant. Her books are distributed by Simon & Schuster. The company publishes poetry, upmarket fiction, and select commercial genres, with a particular commitment to amplifying marginalized and emerging voices.
Importantly, Michelle has resisted the pressure to scale endlessly. Influenced by the book Company of One, she made a conscious decision to define “enough,” both financially and personally, and stop chasing growth for its own sake. Her husband retired at 49. Their life is intentionally modest by North American standards, yet rich by their own definition.
For Michelle, success now looks like autonomy, spaciousness, meaningful work, and time with the people she loves. The business serves her life, not the other way around.
Her Advice to Others
Michelle is cautious about giving advice, acutely aware of the privileges that shaped her path. Still, several principles emerge from her story.
First, comparison is corrosive. Measuring your life against others’ milestones of income, possessions, and status, is a reliable path to dissatisfaction. Second, many of our relentless pursuits are driven by unexamined fears: scarcity, insecurity, or a belief that we are not enough as we are.
She challenges the popular mantra “do what you love” as incomplete and often harmful. Turning passions into professions can drain joy from the very things we cherish. Instead, she suggests reframing the question: What kind of work enables the life you want to live?
Entrepreneurship, she notes, is not for everyone. It requires tolerance for volatility and uncertainty. But for those inclined toward it, the key is not passion. It’s attentiveness. Pay attention to signals. Look for real opportunities. Quiet the noise long enough to hear what’s emerging.
Above all, Michelle encourages people to question their definition of success. When you stop needing more, you may discover that you already have enough.