I am a teacher with a passion for creative writing. My favorite genres to write are young adult, humor poetry, and memoir essays. Join me on my journey!
No Taste Like Home
My first time making my mom's famous potato salad didn't go so well. I had been living with my partner in our first apartment and, after being unable to visit my family for a while during lockdown, I was craving more than just a phone call and he was craving my mother's cooking.
No Gain, No Shame
The COVID-19 pandemic has wreaked havoc upon the world -- and our mental health. Beyond the more obvious effects that the threat of disease and the loss of loved ones has had, the ways we adapted to these threats has also contributed to or exacerbated depression and anxiety.
Have a Haunting Halloween
Let me set the scene for you: you've received an invitation to a Haunted Halloween dinner party with your most ghoulish acquaintances. You don a Victorian-era wedding dress and apply makeup to transform yourself into Emily, the Corpse Bride from Tim Burton's film.
World's Best Teaching Assistant
I never imagined myself to be the kind of person to dote on a seven-pound chihuahua, but life is funny like that. Yes, I was one of those people who got a pet during the pandemic, but my husband and I had been talking about getting a dog well before we got married, waiting until we were more financially stable and emotionally ready to devote as much of our attention as we could to adjusting our lifestyles to accommodate a dog.
Why A Beach Chase is the Perfect Back-to-School Gift
One of the clearest memories I have from preschool was kneeling on the floor, the gray carpet creating indents in my knees. A jack-in-the-box sat on the floor in front of me. I'd seen the toy in some of my favorite cartoons and had never played with one before. I turned the handle slowly, careful not to distort the song.
How Cooking Lets Me Be an Imperfectionist
I am a perfectionist with almost everything I do. And while some might consider it my superpower, it gets exhausting. I constantly revise and rewrite drafts of pretty much all my writing. I only ever paint landscapes or flowers because I can never get noses right. Sometimes I even refold the laundry when my husband isn’t looking.
The hole was about two feet deep when Eva showed up, but Jane barely looked at her. Just kept on digging. They were as far behind Jane’s grandmother’s house as they could get, beneath a tree that was beginning to grow heavy with pears, its delicate pinkish petals still withering and rotting in the grass at its roots. If someone had tried to eat the unripe fruit, it would have been bland and hard, like wood chips. Despite the dimness, Eva could make out the patterns of deep bruises pressed into Jane’s throat and swelling her eye shut.
A Kingdom for Cake
Violet stared through the gap in the fence at her next-door neighbor. She couldn’t help it. Margot, who never let Violet forget that she was the oldest by eleven days, sat at her plastic table and chair beneath the shade of her treehouse. Despite the shade, Margot also wore a large sunhat, her cheeks smeared with sunscreen. But what held Violet’s intrigue was the enormous slice of chocolate cake on the table in front of Margot. Its frosting glistened in the sunlight that trickled through the leaves above.