As autumn flirts with winter, dead leaves dancing with snow, I find myself feeling that familiar creative pull — I want to wrap myself in warm layers, protected from the outside in, snug by the fireplace with a pile of books and notebooks, pen in hand, spending time exploring the inside out. 

I've discovered a newfound hunger for poetry, devouring the works of Patricia Smith and Lucile Clifton, Rachel McKibbens and Warsan Shire, and the ever lovely Justin Torres. I'm delving into my own work, reaching into the past and turning it over and over in my hands until it turns to dust, wetting it with my spit so that my fingers help it take a different shape in the present, molding it into something familiar, but new.

All of this to say I'll be spending the next few months reworking Cherry Lane, having decided to evolve the story from memoir to fiction. The entire process of writing memoir was, for me, unapologetically cathartic. It allowed me to explore my history in a way that was deeply personal, peeling back the scars and revealing the wounds beneath, painful yet beautifully foundational. The next phase in this journey is to reimagine the story outside of myself, capturing the central themes while evolving them into something familiar, but new.  

In the meantime, if you'd like to get your hands on any of my recently released creative non-fiction pieces, you can order a copy of Grey Borders Magazine's September issue: Niagara Falls Night of Art, and the November issue of Down in the Dirt Magazine: Monsters.

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