“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars…”…

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The Road to Whiteface Mountain

The Northern Lights dance above white-capped mountains in Iceland. Although this story takes place in the U.S., I spent a day writing about a beautiful mountain range.

Aurora On Angel’s Wings

It’s 2 a.m. My eyes are bleary, my arms and legs tender from a lack of sleep. My dog can hardly keep her head upright, whether she is indoors or out, and my man looks once more longingly at the sky, as I do. This is how we appear after a night of Aurora Chasing.

“The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.” — Mark Twain

Sur Angels

In memory of my late twin brothers, who died five years ago at the young age of 13, I wrote this poem.

The Road Less Traveled By

Writing, my first love, has returned to me. With a manuscript I finished in the last hours of 2015, I’m excited to seek publication for my first novel!

A boy in a hooded jacket

My sister and I visited Hocking Hills State Park in April 2012, and spent a moment with this rock. This was Lawrence’s and Thomas’s favorite place in Hocking Hills State Park, where we took them hiking at all ages.

Where Dreams May Go

“Within your heart, keep one still, secret spot where dreams may go.” — Louise Driscoll