The female voice is strong and will not be controlled. … More I’ve officially lost control…
Get your copy and support small press. … More Preorders are open for SHE’S LOST CONTROL
Let’s get something straight. I write fiction. Fiction is what I do. Novels, short stories, flash fiction, non-fiction (it made me crazy, but I did it). But every now and then, when the moon is at its apex in the eastern sky and the crickets are singing and there’s beer in my belly and the … More …Like a Patient Etherized Upon a Table
Would just like to remind everyone that NEAT. is still open for submissions until October 31. We’re looking for endings — or beginnings that come from endings. A little Halloween horror, a little sci-fi, a little whatever-the-heck-you-want-to-write. We want to read it. 🙂 We’re accepting fiction, poetry, non-fiction, and photography. Check out the website here. … More NEAT. Submissions!
Hellooooo all of my beautiful followers. I promised you yesterday that I would have news about NEAT. Well, lo and behold, we are LIVE. NEAT. started as a conversation in the beginning of July between myself and my friend TM Keesling. We asked each other: How can we create something that we will be proud … More The first issue of NEAT. is now live!
I would like you all to know that I haven’t died. Yay, right? I took a long break to go on vacation with Husband and do fun things like mountain biking and hiking and all sorts of other things that end with “-ing.” Also did quite a bit of writing, so maybe you will see … More After a Hiatus, I Present to You . . .
Well folks, as of today, I am a published writer! The lovely folks over at Burningword Literary Journal have seen fit to give two of my poems a home in their July 1 issue. I literally squealed when I opened the email. Part of my excitement comes from the fact that these two poems are … More [Insert Pinocchio voice here] “I’m a real boy!”
I wrote this poem a few months ago and I don’t know what to do with it. So I will leave it here for now. I HAVEN’T SLEPT IN DAYS It is the kind of winter where hands bleed from proximity to the radiator, positioned at ten and two as the midnight drive persists. It … More Poem — “I Haven’t Slept in Days”
Someone asked me once what kind of music I listen to while I write. I was rather at a loss for words. It’s not that I don’t know what kind of music I find in my earbuds on a consistent basis. It’s that I didn’t know how this person would react when I said that … More What does my writing sound like?
One day, a bird flew inside my rib cage. It thumped and jumped and whirred until I knew it was dead. And the sad, sweet sorrow sang inside my stomach until all I could feel was the breeze beneath my heart where my rib cage used to be.