Whether you need a bio for your band or ad copy for a new brand, I’m here to help you tell an unputdownable story.
My writing is fueled by anxiety, caffeine, and lo-fi beats. It happens in pockets of time, mainly in my iPhone notes when I’m running (I stop briefly of course) or my baby is taking a nap.
I started writing when I was in first grade. I used a long thin piece of paper meant for a basket-weaving craft project. I folded it back and forth against itself like a fan, secured it with a single staple on one side and filled the tiny one-inch pages with the adventures of a ladybug named Legg. In third grade, I wrote my first nonfiction story, The Moving Family, based on my experience as an Air Force brat living in Germany.
I graduated from University of Florida’s Journalism School in 2008 with a degree in Public Relations and moved to New York City to work at a global PR firm, and write, but mainly as a hobby. I interviewed artists and reviewed songs for music website Earmilk and curated a monthly playlist feature called The Indie Skim. Prior to that I penned a column on “the quarter-life crisis” for Stay Thirsty Media and was an entertainment writer for Z!NK magazine.
When I decided I wanted to Write Write (capital W, twice), I decided I wanted to do it right, and needed the hypothetical gun-to-my-head to actually carve out the time. Spending thousands of dollars on school turned out to be a pretty threatening weapon. I started my MFA in Creative Nonfiction with the New School in New York City while working full-time in advertising. And at some point, I tapped into the power of persuasion for my own personal use and morphed my love of pithy prose into a career as a copywriter.
In 2018, my husband’s job moved us to London, so I left the New School halfway through and completed my Master’s in writing at London Metropolitan University in fall 2021. Being a working student and new parent during a pandemic may have slowed down the process, but I love school and learning, and decided to embrace this scenic route – and being the tortoise, not the hare, for once.
Plus, I’ve come to realize it’s in the slower, in-between moments that a writeable life happens. It’s when I overhear conversations that I would never be invited to that I have a front-row seat to humanity, and my eyes are open even if my thumbs are tap-tap-tapping and an older gentlemen in my path raises his fist in my direction shouting, “Watch where you’re going!” Even that. There’s a story there, too.
Whatever yours is, I’d love to help you tell it.