Essays
“I have to take those flashes of insight that in poetry are the crux, the thing itself, and explore them more overtly. This requires being a kind of split self. Flawed protagonist, willing to show herself bumbling in the dark, and someone possibly no more than moments older, yet somehow wiser, attempting to make sense of it all.”
Excerpt from “Living Large”
“Catch,” he called now from atop the tree and tossed down what looked like miniature peaches. I lifted my Indian print skirt to form a net as two thoughts vied for my attention. Maybe he could love me. I need to write about this.
Excerpt from “Finding Myself on the Page”
“I studied her face for signs of shell shock or sleep deprivation, both of which I saw daily in the mirror. As on her ring finger, there was nothing there.”
Excerpt from “Throwing Caution Out the Car Window”