(“About Me” just felt a little dry for some reason…)

Asking a writer to write their own biography is kind of like asking a surgeon to perform a triple bypass on themselves. (Not that you asked, but storytelling and self-promotion are two totally different ballgames.)

That said—I’m currently 86% wine, 14% sheer audacity, and (thus) 0% liable for your emotional fragility… Feel free to adjust your expectations accordingly.

I’ve always been driven to connect… and also to write. Somewhere along the way, these two just sort of formed their own little alliance. And I discovered my alchemy: transforming the intangible into something people feel—something that resonates.

My style is somewhat of a hybrid lovechild—conceived by rhythm, raised on emotional intelligence, and disciplined by editorial rigor. (A quirky but lovable little mutt.)

Or, for the visual person: It’s like an unpredictable and unapologetic (but still artistically productive) gathering—Joan Didion, Leonard Cohen, Hunter S. Thompson—part séance, part intervention… or total orgy of influence, if that vision lands better for you.

Basically, it’s versatility with standards—cleaned up by a relative nonconformist who actually gives a fuck about syntax.

I believe if something’s worth saying, it’s worth saying exactly. And meaningfully. And with a (dark) sense of humor every now and then.

That’s the paradigm. Everything else just kind of adapts from there… (Don’t worry—the adaptability runs deep.*)

I’ve covered a smorgasbord of mediums over the years—from fact-based to free verse and just about everything in between. And yes, I’m particular about every single piece.

Whether it’s bound for publication or destined for kindling, I always aim to do it justice—and with the hope that, somewhere along the way, it moves someone… (Language is strange like that.)

*Prefer the pixelated version? Ask me for my CV.

When I’m not channeling dead authors across various platforms, I’m busy raising two wildly beautiful humans. Or perhaps it’s the other way around…? Either way, they make it all brighter. And worthwhile.

In the imaginary moments I have to myself, I’m likely off somewhere chasing music… or a sunrise… or a chance to summon my inner yogi and geek out on astrology. (Being a double Cancer is a hard thing to ignore.)

To sum up the rest:

I’m an idealist, an intuitive, and very possibly Led Zeppelin’s biggest fan. Love drives me, the mysterious draws me in, and daydreaming always takes me somewhere tropical (then hands me a surfboard).

I embrace the dark side, but I welcome the sparks—the people, places, and moments that make for a better story.

Hey, lighten up a little…

I’ve been conquering writer’s block (for a living, shockingly) since 2008—you know, back when the em dash was just an innocent stylistic mark, not probable cause for some overeager 22-year-old in Silicon Valley.

Yes, my (now slightly tainted) love affair with the em dash predates Claude, Grok, and the era of tech bros—not to mention the bizarre notion that punctuation could somehow be patented. (If parentheses are next, I’m fucked.)

In other words—and for the record—everything I create is authentically mine.

Call me old-school, but I still believe real storytelling requires a soul… and fewer acronyms (for the love of god—fewer acronyms).

I digress… I’m not anti-AI. I’m just a (semi-bitter) human writer, adjusting to the onslaught of robotic “creativity.” But it’s okay—I’ll adapt. I’ll evolve. I’ll make space for the happy mediums… I just won’t hand over the pen.

Nor will I apologize for my em dashes.

Noam Chomsky