The Lion Queen

I spend a good deal of time watching women hack through the jungle of self-doubt with a dull, rusty machete. Scratch that. With a pair of cuticle trimmers. I’d like to say it’s difficult trying to figure out why so many unbelievably smart, successful, frankly kick-ass women have trouble valuing their self-worth, except it’s not,…

Dear Reader…

If I were Ms. Austen or a Bronte sister, this is the point at which I would say: Dear Reader… After two decades of procrastination, fifteen months of on and off again writing, one month of manic non-stop writing, sixty index cards, and several weeks of juggling scenes until I thought my brain was going…

That 70s Show

Forget running to the convenience store with a note to buy your mother’s Pall Malls. Forget rolling around in the way, way back or playing kick the can in the middle of the road until the porch lights flickered on. Forget swimming unsupervised and sweating in the car while your mother ran into the bank….