I was the only kid in my Catholic grade school who raised my hand when the priest asked us who wanted to be a saint. Surrounded by stained glass icons of pure, virginal women who would rather die than sin, I believed this was the only ideal of womanhood I could aspire to.

Now, I write about women who sin. Women who break the rules and rebel against the forces of the patriarchy and white supremacy. My stories are fueled by female rage, queer joy, and the pursuit of liberation. As I work to heal my own relationship with guilt and shame, I write to reflect people back at themselves in a way that takes them aback with their own radiance.

I write with playful intimacy, quiet wonder, and earnest delight.
With circular, curious, melodic explorations of our shared beauty.
With rage-fueled hope and hope-fueled rage.

One of my favorite things is to unearth women from history or stories from the canon and retell them with a modern feminist queer spin. And who knows, maybe the saints are next.