Creative Writing

Poetry | Flash | Short Stories | Novel-Length Works

Selected Prose

Novel Excerpt

Clearing Ground (formerly Farewell, Mr. Garcia). Petigru Review. 2020. [Read]

“A soft, staccato patter of footsteps came from the other end of the hall. My heartbeat throbbed in my ears. I fumbled for the spare set of car keys in my pocket and tried to pull up my tennis shoes from the tiled floor, but my legs had frozen.”

Clearing Ground is a complete, 96,000-word manuscript of upmarket literary fiction and psychological realism that is in the final stages of editing. Set in Ashford, Illinois between 1995 and 2012, CLEARING GROUND follows Nora Hall, a survivor of a middle school shooting whose unidentified perpetrator leaves her community suspended in fear. As Nora is drawn back to Foxwood during her teens and early adulthood, she grapples with survivor’s guilt while trying to support her peers’ recovery. But as she seeks closure, she must confront whether tending to others’ wounds is a way of avoiding her own. Fifteen years later, the shooter is finally identified, just as Nora begins to rebuild her life, pulling her back into the shadow of a violence she thought she had survived.

Short Story

Still Life. Redwood Writers Prose Anthology: One Universe to the Left. 2023. [Available in Print]

“As the clock struck eight, Maria shoved the rickety cheese cart across the stone path bisecting the town square. The bell’s vibrations rippled through her frantic brain. She was late to market. Again.”

Flash Fiction

Maybe It Was. 1st Place CWC Marin Flash Contest. 2025. [Read]

“I can’t remember the exact moment I fell in love with Willa Curran. Maybe it was the summer after 4th grade, when our neighbor Ms. Merveille turned 90 and decided to chase her every long-deferred dream before time ran out.”

Selected Poetry

Amplified (Seeing the Beautiful Brain Today). Wordgathering: A Journal of Disability Poetry and Literature, Syracuse University. 2025. [Read]

“You fold forward, torso just brushing knees. You rotate your head, right ear parallel to the blistering summer concrete.”

Garden Memory. Wordgathering: A Journal of Disability Poetry and Literature, Syracuse University. 2025. [Read]

“I still imagine the blooms’ | outlines, still trace | the contours of each leaf.”

Season. Stirring: A Literary Collection. 2025. [Read]

“Wheels rumble across | cracks splitting sidewalks | as cornfields fade | like mirages.”

38th Parallel. Jewel City Review & the Poet Laureate Program of Glendale, CA. 2025.

“Still, | the razor wire | rushed past, framing | our view outward.”

Sensation. Award-Winning Poem, 92nd Writer’s Digest Writing Competition. 2023.

“brain and neurons | on fire, liquefying, | detonating through | a fragile barrier of skin”

Spotlight. redrosethorns. 2023. [Read]

“my eyelashes are | moonlight crescents. | I am a singer: | a spotlight surrounds, | radiates from, | me.”

Praise Poem for a Body *(Nominated for Best of the Net). The Pensieve. 2023. [Read]

“Praise the lifetime surgery scar, | the hidden mark of a child-survivor.”

My Mother’s Coat. Willawaw Journal. 2019. [Read]

“She spread the garment | across the bed with a reverence | reserved for family heirlooms.”