About Me

Me-300w72pxAfter spending my whole life in small town Illinois, I moved to big, gritty Chicago.  From country roads to “L” trestles, from swallow’s nests and corn fields to pigeon shit and stinking alleys.  Something drew me there and kept me there for four years–a need to look the not so pretty in the face and say screw you.  Maybe that’s why I developed such an appreciation for those who live there, especially the people of the streets.  They’ve been kicked in the face, cursed and, worst of all, ignored and yet they continue to say screw you.  They fight to survive, to thrive.

I spent twice a week volunteering with Chicago’s homeless, youth in particular, and got to know a few on a personal level that made me want to become a voice for them. I still volunteer and am channeling the lessons I learned on the streets of Chicago.  Seattle is surrounded by mountains and ocean and emerald green trees.  Solitude and peace can be found a short drive from home.  But until the human element can find a way to treat themselves and each other with respect and understanding, there is darkness out there as well.  And it’s how you deal with the darkness that counts.

My STREET STORIES series reflects the reality of throw away youth striving to survive. My publication credits include short fiction in Red Herring Mystery Magazine, Downstate Story and City Slab.

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Recent Posts

Pride

The title to my latest, and last, post on my Birthing the Next Book blog has a double meaning. Pride that I am finally finished with Cry Baby Cry and ready to launch my baby into the world. Pride in celebration of Gay Pride month, an event dear to Avril McCartney’s fictional heart.

I hope this book will be well received, but also that anyone who reads it will understand how joyful it can be to look past preconceived prejudices of gender in order to truly see the heart of the person.

I have loved getting to know Avril. I hope you enjoy her, too.

Avril walked over to the mirror on the far wall just to check that the woman hadn’t been making fun of her. Nope. Still fabulous. Still sparkly with the glitter and hairspray she’d spritzed on before leaving the house.

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