writer. editor. artist.
Creative Writing
Short Story -- The Archive
"Mike invited me over that night, offering beer and a backyard bonfire in exchange for some company. My mom and Mike had become good friends, sharing time, vacations, and secrets with each other. My mom was on a business trip that night and unable to console her friend. I, however, was in town, bored, and seventeen without a fake ID."
Short Story -- FORM
"They cuffed your wrists in cold metal, and the image felt strangely familiar. I felt your warm hands act as the metal did, pushing into my bones harder and harder until my fingers dangled with the pins and needles of your desire. It was only because you wanted me, right? Why else would you hold on so tight?"
Prose -- FORM
"In this moment, the two forces are equal with each other. The dimly lit sky — even on days with scorching heat, rapid winds, chaotic thunderstorms, and gloomy rains — can, in this moment, find harmony with the night."
Essay Collection -- Duke in New York Project
"As much as I would love to encourage people to just delete these apps and stop focusing on
their social media presence, I don’t know if I could do the same. I know it’s not rational to worry
about how I will stay in touch with friends, but it’s still in the back of my mind. I know deleting
these apps will help me sleep better and stay more in tune with “real life,” but when real life is
slowly becoming a greater reflection of our virtual identities — from our style to our political
beliefs — staying online is staying in tune."
Essay -- The Chronicle
"I don’t know if I should blame the “thinspo” blogs that occupied my middle-school phone screen, the artificial bodies of people on TV, or myself for admiring them. For relishing in the drug that is being called skinny, for finding comfort in chemicals, for reaching for zeroes. Zero calories, zero sugar, zero fat, size zero. But zero is nothing — it is, quite literally, empty. And that is typically how this disorder makes you feel."
Essay -- The Chronicle
"When I came back from Germany, the first thing I did was cruise along the wide-open highways surrounding Charlotte, and honestly, I’m scared of driving. I make risky left turns and brake too quickly and still depend on a stranger’s “go ahead” wave at four-way stops. But the freedom of roaming the roads alone with no determined destination, no concerns over missing an exit or barely making the yellow light taught me the difference between solitude and independence, traveling and exploring — freedom from worry."
Essay -- The Chronicle
"Family and neighbors gathered in our ashtray garage congregation, breaking bread and beer on a scattered group of wooden stools and plastic chairs, cigarette smoke wafting as the incense of our ceremony. My dad’s bulky speaker blared a choir of alternative rock radio and scratched Motown CDs. The storms danced in a cacophony of chaos and vitality, the shouting thunder and soothing rain dynamic and impending yet natural and inviting."