Chapbook release

My poetry chapbook, Yield Signs Don’t Exist, is now available! Published by PS Books, it can be purchased on

Poet George Drew says of the book,  “Yield Signs Don’t Exist is comprised of poems that never cede their right of way. Whether the poem is a lyrically rendered yet grim morality tale involving a turkey and a baby; a logistically structured contrast poem in which coins are described in terms of what they are not; or a poem set in a supermarket in Pennsylvania and developed through the extended metaphor of pharmaceuticals, each is resonant with ironic wit and humor, each unyielding in its honesty and insight.”

What I read in 2015, part iii

EDEN CLOSE by Anita Shreve

“Eden had been too much a part of his life—as much a piece of his geography as the hydrangea tree outside his window, whose white puffy blossoms are turning now to salmon as they do at the end of every summer; or as the way his mother looked each morning at breakfast in her bathroom, nursing her coffee as she stared out the kitchen window, making, he always thought, some kind of peace with the weather and with how the day seemed about to unfold.”


IF YOU’RE NOT THE ONE by Jemma Forte

“Meanwhile, Jennifer had began plundering the reserves of her memory, something else she’d been doing a lot lately, searching for feelings she longed to relive, for there was an enormous comfort to be taken from the fact that, of course, things hadn’t always been this way.”



“I knew that I had come face to face with some one whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself.”


WHY WE WRITE edited by Meredith Maran

“When I feel that the story is beginning to pick up rhythm–the characters are shaping up, I can see them, I can hear their voices, and they do things that I haven’t planned, things I couldn’t have imagined–then I know the book is somewhere, and I just have to find it, and bring it, word by word, into this world.” -Isabel Allende

What I read in 2015, part ii


“If Pasquale’s love was a sign of how much someone could like Lila, the love of Marcello—a young man who was handsome and wealthy, with a car, who was harsh and violent, a Camorrist, used, that is, to taking the women he wanted—was, in my eyes, in the eyes of all my contemporaries, and in spite of his bad reputation, in fact, perhaps even because of it, a promotion, the transition from skinny little girl to woman capable of making anyone bend to her will.”

THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN by Paula Hawkins

“The weekend stretches out ahead of me, forty-eight empty hours to fill. I lift the can to my mouth again, but there’s not a drop left.”


AMERICANAH by Chimamada Ngozi Adiche

“Princeton, in the summer, smelled of nothing, and although Ifemelu liked the tranquil greenness of the many trees, the clean streets and stately homes, the delicately overpriced shops, and the quiet, abiding air of earned grace, it was this, the lack of a smell, that most appealed to her, perhaps because the other American cities she knew well had all smelled distinctly.”



“One friend with whom you have a lot in common is better than three with whom you struggle to find things to talk about.”

 Part iii coming soon!

What I read in 2015, part i

Better late than never. Here are a few of my favorites:



“Miri Ammerman and her best friend, Natalie Osner, were sprawled on their bellies on the thick, tweedy wall-to-wall carpet of Natalie’s den, waiting for the first-ever televised lighting of the famous Christmas tree. The den was Miri’s favorite room in Natalie’s house, not least because of the seventeen-inch Zenith, inside a pale wood cabinet, the biggest television Miri had ever seen.”


THE WIFE by Meg Wolitzer

“The men would long for armored writing, protected writing, writing that was muscle-bound and never ceased flexing itself.”


RARE AS THE KOTUKU by Camille Norvaisas

“Outside the morning window, the pine limbs

are weighted with snow, like punished schoolboys,

arms parallel to the floor, dictionary upon each palm…”



“Each scarf cost a pound, and I bought them from an Indian woman who kept a stall in the tube station at Victoria, where I caught my train to work. They were thin, crinkled things, not the sort of scarves that ought to be worn to work in an office or that offered any protection against the cold…The money I spent on them, and the habit I adopted of wearing a different one each day, seems to me now a haphazard indulgence, an attempt to prove that I was the kind of girl capable of throwing herself headlong into an affair with her boss–a married man twice her age–and escaping without consequence.”


WONDER BOYS by Michael Chabon

“That’s a big trunk…It fits a tuba, three suitcases, a dead body, and a garment bag almost perfectly.”