About

I'm a humorist who specializes in difficult subjects. It comes from surviving a family that practiced diabolical irony, like re-hiding our Easter eggs then howling at our eventual confusion over repeatedly “finding” the same 12 eggs. 

Or when they told me we were getting a cow then laughed as I rode home in the back of the pick-up, clutching the rope I’d brought to lead it home as I shivered amidst a pile of white packages containing a frozen side of beef. 

This conditioning shaped my voice and led me to write and deliver many highly effective productions during my 35-year career in the pharmaceutical industry, which is not typically known for irreverence. Like the “Seinfeld” themed conflict management workshop that had participants using a marble rye as a talking stick. Or the C-Suite presentation on a vaccine’s clinical trial data, where I used storytelling to build suspense then revealed major risks using a Spirograph. This blending of levity with reality earned me a reputation for creating compelling, thought-provoking moments which colleagues still comment on. 

Now, I’m crafting my life experiences into stories that tickle stomachs and squeeze hearts, which is what you’d expect from the 6-year-old who’d prematurely named the cow “Daisy.”

I began writing newsletters to friends in my early twenties, mostly as a way to keep in touch as we independently navigated adulthood. But I found my voice telling humorous and heartfelt stories about corporate life, dating, and the struggles of unexpectedly becoming a single mom.

Over time, I began publishing blog posts that chronicled my adventures in home improvement. I loved how it felt to make people laugh when they read about the time I stapled fabric to my laundry room ceiling or created a French village on my garage walls.

But one weekend in 2015, I found myself writing a different kind of story, one that had been buried for decades. The length surprised me: within two days, I'd written nearly 250 pages. Looking back, I realize it had been an exercise in journaling, driven by the need to pry the emotion from my body. The act of doing so exhausted, thrilled, and terrified me.

I put it away until a few years later, when I decided to continue. As before, the next 100 pages flew out of me over the course of several days.

Now, I've completed what's become a full-length novel, professionally edited and ready for publication. I hope to share it with you soon.

In the meantime, enjoy some of my earlier work at Mind Your Manors.