About Me
I write fiction about the stuff we’re not supposed to say out loud—abuse, grief, sex, God, the way people drink themselves to sleep and call it coping.
Former clergy.
Still haunted.
Still hopeful, but not in the Hallmark sense.
You won’t find happy endings here.
I write fiction that haunts, essays that punch, and stories that refuse to resolve neatly.
You’ll find broken priests, long silences at dinners, kids with bruises, cigarette smoke, the haze of alcohol and too much goddamn hope.
If you're looking for redemption, bring your own flashlight.
Contact
Feel free to drop me a line through the contact form . Maybe I'll write back. Or not.
Note
Only select pieces are available right now. Others are tied up in competition submissions, which means they can’t be published until judging wraps. I’ll post them as soon as I’m allowed to. In the meantime, the stories that are live speak for themselves.
Audio Coming Soon
Because some stories hit harder when you hear them.
Raw readings, fiction with breath in it, maybe a rant or two.
Stay tuned. Or don’t. I’ll be recording either way.
The Cutting Room Floor
The place where edits live.
Always a Bridesmaid and Never a Bride?
My work has been rejected by every major journal (often with startling speed), but Death’s Burlesque managed to sneak into the 2025 Broad River Review, earning an Honorable Mention in their Rash Award for Fiction. Fall edition, link to follow once published.
How do you like me now?