I’ve been in love with the written word since I sat down and tried to write a novel at age eight. I won’t claim to have been a child prodigy—it was a rip-off of Black Beauty and I stopped after the first page. I will claim, however, to have become a wordsmith of sorts in the meantime: from yearbook nerd, to journalist, to scholar.

To twentysomething just trying to make it work. Here, you'll find scribbles and musings, work and self-indulgence—all the stuff littering the bottom of the waste-paper basket that might just get me past the first page.