A tender and quietly triumphant novel about beer, ambition, and the resilience of Midwestern women, The Lager Queen of Minnesota reminded me why storytelling, like brewing, is both craft and care.

Somewhere between a canceled Nutcracker, a fake goose hunt, and a suspiciously sparkly detour, Operation Nutcracker delivered the most chaotic, perfectly-me proposal imaginable.

A novel about love, loss, and the slow ache of letting go, Shark Heart stayed with me long after I closed the cover, much like the grief it so beautifully renders.

Sometimes love looks less like a fairytale and more like three deleted dating apps, a gray beanie, and a tsunami movie on a first date.

Grief, for me, isn’t quiet or occasional. It’s a constant undercurrent, shaped by absence, folded into memory, and carried in every story I write.

I went in for wellness points and left with a thyroid disorder. I don’t feel sick, but now my body feels slightly unfamiliar—like it knows something I don’t. This one’s about Hashimoto’s, inheritance, and the quiet weirdness of feeling off in your own skin.

Networking as an introvert doesn’t have to feel like being thrown into a shark tank armed with nothing but awkward small talk and a sweaty handshake. Here are a few tips and tricks to networking on your terms.

From monstrous mothers to punished seductresses, horror films expose society’s anxieties about women, power, and control. As political battles rage on, these stories feel more real than ever.

Whether you’re balancing 80-page federal proposals or brainstorming big ideas in a sandbox of fellow grant nerds, it’s all about finding the right words to turn good stories into fundable programs.

Somewhere between 'Latina enough' and 'not quite,' this is a story about language, identity, and the struggle of holding onto a culture that sometimes feels just out of reach.

Poetry didn’t leave me—It just put on a pair of slacks, grabbed a grant proposal, and started speaking in funding rationales.