I write about animals, nature, women, and feelings. I like to breach that invisible, intricate world under the surface, whether it is trying to see the world the way a shelter dog might, pressing my mind gently through the surface of soil no human has disturbed, or exploring the tension and release in our human hearts.
I write from that place inside me that longs to go home, even though I’m already there. It is a place I cannot appease for long, but sometimes it is contented with the company of stories, those other restless, insatiable rascals.
I write for the words, to give them a place to plant themselves, to germinate, to sprout, and to escape the confines of a static void, to grow and thrive as they must.
I write because I must. It is my sincere hope that others will find in my stories to be just what they need at the moment. I wrote for myself, I write for you, I just write.