Once. Twice. Three times… an author?
This summer has been a whirlwind. Yesterday, Dark Fragments became my third published book. I don’t feel the way I thought I would about it. In the last three months, I’ve faced a lot of…
For Those Who Remain
It has been a crazy couple of weeks. I Haven’t Been Myself is real.You can walk into a bookstore and order it, or buy it online. You can read it on Kindle Unlimited. If I’m…
A Kid on Christmas Eve
It’s so strange to finally be here, on the eve of my first book being available to the public. I finished writing it in November of 2025. By January, it had a finished cover. In…
Lemonade
I wrote this one on my birthday this year, as it’s always a day of looking inward for me. A day of reflection. What have I accomplished over the last 365 days? What am I…
Vantage Point
It’s finally April. We’re in that weird New England time of year where yesterday was 70 degrees. Today it snowed.As New Englanders, the best way to survive this time is to dress in layers and…
Keep Writing
I got the most amazing feedback yesterday from my editor, Hanna, for What Remains of Her. She said, “You have a real gift.”She said, “Keep writing.”She said, “It’s been quite a while since I enjoyed…
Late February Musings
It’s cold. We’ve had far more snow this winter than I ever wanted.I love December snow. Holiday snow. But after December, I’m ready for spring. Unfortunately, I live in New England, and especially with the…
Glass Butterfly
You made a gravemiscalculation to think volumeor intensitynegates intelligence Ego carved from glass fragile as a butterflyon a winter’s morning Delicate patternsintricately twisted into an outline of armor beautifulbut secure as frost on an autumn…
Fun House Mirror
Hate is justlove distortedthrough afun house mirror The energy raisedby angeris fueled by lovedivided Sifted downto its smallestparts to be scrutinized Then built back upinto a machine ofrage Weaponized againstthe ones we onceloved
Existential Lovers
Our demonsare notexistential ghouls They aretangible Lovers, dancingentwined with theskeletons wearily lockedin thecloset