B.A., The Evergreen State College, 2004
M.F.A., University of Nevada, Las Vegas, 2009
I live in Sin City. I know, it's shocking. Luckily, having no interest in gambling and no money allows much time for writing. I'm shopping my first book at the moment, The Casaloma, a narrative-driven project that employs poetry, prose, and dramatic form in an attempt to awaken in the reader a drive to explore the question of self and the prepositional phrase--how we understand ourselves in relation to those objects, ideas, and institutions that so often mold who we think we are. And that is the central question of the book: how much of ourselves are we actually?
Beyond that I'm working on collection of short stories, strange and ominous bedtime stories for all ages
Fiction, Children's Books, Poetry
Latest Publication Title
"The Letter," in Danse Macabre
"Delilah," in Danse Macabre
"Poems from The Casaloma," in Interim: Volume 28/number 1&2/2010
"Poems from The Casaloma," in Alice Blue Review 10
There was not a mark on it save my name on the front, handwritten, inked in red. I turned the letter over to notice that it was not sealed, yet a remainder of wax was on it, as if someone had stamped and sealed it in a style far too ancient. Great pains had been taken to force the letter through the bottom of my door. Evidence to support this – creases and rips, deviants in a playground who had accosted its edges all the way round. I opened the door in the hopes of finding the seal or any other clue. My search turned up nothing but several crumbs of red wax upon the threshold.
The timing of my find, as I had arrived home at a late hour, coupled with the loneliness of a house minus my dear wife, at her sister’s for two days now, was unsettling to say the least. However, possessing as I do the superior qualities and curiosities of a cat, I made my way into the sitting room letter in hand. I poured a drink and removed my dear wife’s crocheted shawl, a gift from an old dear aunt now walking the quiet streets of the grave, from the arm of my reading chair. I sat down and removed the letter from the tattered skin of its sheath...
How did Evergreen help you in your career?
Structure, freedom, and time: this is what a young artist needs, and what the English Department at Evergreen provides.