Writing Beneath Us  (what started as a tongue-in-cheek “reptilian story”) has been an unexpected challenge, one that’s forced me to find balance between fiction and truth. It began as a joke. A local sinkhole. A few sarcastic updates. Then somewhere along the way, it started taking shape as something deeper, a story about community, survival, and the parts of ourselves that crawl up from the dark when the ground gives way. But I’ll be honest, breaking into fiction has been to

I’ve always had a few projects running at once. Some people call it distraction, I call it momentum. Right now, I’m slowly working on several: What We Carry Forward , the continuation of Between the Echoes , which explores what healing looks like after the dust has settled. Beneath Us , which started as a sinkhole story but has evolved into something deeper (and stranger) about survival, community, and humor in chaos. The Values Project , built around an exercise I’ve used wi

There are moments in life when everything seems to be settling into place then, out of nowhere, the ground gives way. Sometimes that’s just a metaphor. In my case, it was literal. A sinkhole opened up next to my house. At first, it was chaos, phone calls, measurements, and trying to wrap my head around what 50 feet wide and 40 feet deep really  means… all while I was supposed to be launching a new book at the Scarecrow Festival. Life has a funny way of testing your sense of t

You hit “publish.” You wait. You refresh the page. Nothing. It’s that strange mix of hope and silence that every writer, or whatever I...

I assume there’s a moment every “real” writer hits. At least, there’s one I seem to hit quite frequently. It’s that point where you stare...

I’ve been asked more than once: “How much of Chasing Echoes is real, and how much did you make up?” The answer isn’t as clean as people...

In some of my echoes, I’ve referenced things like “shifting my grip” or “the mat.” Those words didn’t just come out of thin air. They’re...

When I wrote Not My Flag to Raise in Between the Echoes: The Reality of PTSD , it wasn’t just about the flag. It was about the moment....

“But every one of us walks beside the echo of something. And if you listen long enough, you might hear your own.” Those were the closing...

I never had much love for writing in school. If you handed me an essay assignment, I’d stare at the page like it was a punishment....

When I first sat down to write Between the Echoes , I thought the hardest part would be remembering. In reality, the harder task was...

“The line between what happened and what we remember.” There’s a line I walk every time I sit down to write. Sometimes it’s razor thin,...

"Ideas captured in the moment, waiting to find their place or remain as echoes." For a long time, I told myself I’d write someday. I had...