Welcome to My Blog
There is nothing more I like than yapping. This is a space where I share poems, short stories, and spiels about my life as a displaced appalachian.
Writer’s Block Poems
Subscribers received this morning’s full set of poems early — read them tonight after 6 PM.
Xenia House Colors
✨ Free to view, designed with love. Subscribers can download hi-res banners + see all my design notes.
Community Discussion [October]
Join the community discussion for October!
Mamaw Evelyn
Life Lately: New Job, Lost Sleep, and Missing Mamaw
September has been a mix of new beginnings, sleepless nights, and remembering those I miss most. Here’s a little life update, straight from my heart.
Alice and Her Shadow [short story]
✨ Today’s Vault Drop:Alice and the Shadow
Free to read: the raw, unpolished adventure featuring Alice, Simon, Minerva, and Balthazar.
For subscribers: unlock the entire Story Vault — including The Heat Between Us, Wings of the Fallen, and more stories hiding in the dark. 🌙
The Soundtrack to Raye and Jax
🎶 Curious what songs carried me through Raye and Jax’s journey? Subscribers can see the full playlist that became the soundtrack to my book.
First Scene I Ever Wrote
💌 Every subscription helps me keep telling stories and sharing poems that matter to me. If you’d like to walk a little closer on this journey, consider subscribing for exclusive posts and behind-the-scenes looks at my book.
Why Writing Heals Me (and maybe you too)
Meet the Gods Who Shaped My World
🔮 Want to dive deeper? Subscribers get access to my worldbuilding notes, including the meddling gods of Xenia and how they shaped the story.
Why Cassandra of Troy Still Haunts Us (and my book)
The Heat Between Us [short story]
Bad Haiku’s
Why I’m happy to share my “no’s”
Maps of Xenia
I talk about how my book’s map has evolved, starting with hand-drawn renditions with pencil and paper, ending with my most recent rendition painted on my iPad in Procreate.
Turning the Page
once lost, now found
I wrote this poem in 2016 after my first niece was born. There was a part of me that never wanted to go back home, and as I have aged that part of me has gotten smaller and smaller. She is now 8 and has a younger sister. I dedicate this poem to them. May they never lose their accent, their love of the mountains, or each other.
An Invitation to Subscribe
momma’s windchimes
There’s nothing I love more than the song of windchimes. When I lived at home, the best naps were taken when the windows were up, curtains blowing in the wind, and my momma’s windchimes singing me to sleep.
9/11/2001
It has been 24 years since 9/11. I had been thinking about it a lot recently, and couldn’t get my memories to make sense, so I went straight to a source I knew I could trust—my momma.