Statement of Work

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Begin with uncertainty.

Or begin with the benefit of the doubt, the empathy of not knowing. What I do when I write is a calculated advance-retreat-advance. My voice and perspective admit doubt: who am I, and why should I be trusted?

Wherever I begin, I always end by dipping into my stuff, the images and questions that recur and thread throughout my fiction and nonfiction work, regardless of length or focus or purpose. My stuff is friendship. Sadness. Secrecy and slow revelation. The possibility of great delight.

The hardest and most rewarding part of honing my writing practice has been honing my ability to be vulnerable and open. Open to critique and criticism, open to new revelations about myself. All of my writing asks some version of this question: “How do you find yourself, outside yourself?” I write in an attempt to answer.