I like feeling invisible. An expert eaves dropper, watching deeply and collecting snippets, quirks, and stories from the people around me is a favorite past-time. I was a contemplative and whimsical child, and I’ve carried those qualities into my writing as an adult.  I love to deep dive into an emotional snapshot, and the interacting internal and external experience that is best distilled in writing.

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            My last published work was a second place winning short story published by my county library system in the 7th grade. That single pinnacle event gave me a false sense of hope that I was fated to be in author. Unfortunately, writing has been little more than a slightly embarrassing hobby for many years. It turns out that being a young single mother, college classes, and full-time work with some of the most at-risk kids and families  can be a bit of a time eater. I am currently a special education teacher, and doing my best to keep writing about the silly happenings in life every day.

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            At 30-years-old some of my worst impulses, like the urge to share my self-indulgent journal entries under the guise of poetry, or my deep desire to publish one of the many novels that have been percolating in my consciousness, have resurfaced with a renewed sense of urgency.

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            So here we are. With fear and self-judgment, I am taking a leap, and sharing my work.