When she was twelve she said: "I can't wait to get out of this town. I'm going to New York City where people are weird." Her mother and sister affectionately call her, 'that creepy little kid'. We see you, Elizabeth,... Read more →


On her ninth birthday, Elizabeth abruptly chose a different path. She turned her back on the Mean Girls and set about making herself invisible. In truth, she wasn't so much invisible as invulnerable. While bullying via social media became the... Read more →


Well before I married Elizabeth's father we talked about children. In those early conversations we didn't talk about financial weight so much as the emotional and support commitments; those nebulous things that go well past shelter, clothing, and food. To... Read more →


Me and Elizabeth on the school bus rock. Just a metaphor, really, because we're still on that rock. Rocks change and people change but you can decide to stay on the rock together. **** My contract with GE came to... Read more →


She came so far, so fast, and neither of us saw it. She saw the things that weren't good enough and I saw the way she caved in on herself every single time she missed the mark. I held my... Read more →


This story has been told, but the truth about stories is they're never told the same way twice. It's August, 2015 and Elizabeth is dancing with FAB at DANY Studios down on 38th, somewhere between 8th and 9th. She didn't... Read more →


Five year old footsteps pounding down the hall from the living room... ...MAHHHHHHHMMMMMYYYY! MICHAEL'S NOT DOING NICENESS COUNTS!!!!! MOMMMMMMEEEEEEE!!! I don't know what he did, but she turned his ass in, assuming there might be such thing as a Niceness... Read more →


There is no doubt the boy got the short end of the stick every single time. They lived in a little stone cottage on a small farm. The farm had horses and dogs and cats and bunnies. There was a... Read more →


The bear's name is Parquet and if you've ever read The Velveteen Rabbit, be assured that Parquet has been real for a very long time. An odd eleven year old asked for a teddy-bear at Christmas and the bear appeared... Read more →


Writer's prompts are magical. There is a section in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance in which the protagonist is remembering a moment with a college student struggling to write well. I won't get into the philosophical discussion of... Read more →