I come to this profession with a lifetime of passion and a new sense of purpose, having spent 15 years as an executive in corporate America, helping build and run a few consulting firms, and deciding over the past year to refocus my career on what I madly love and where my true zone of brilliance is.
In terms of my credentials, I approach this from two perspectives: what I've done, and what I do. What I've done is based on things like my schooling, where I'm published, and for whom I work/have worked. What I do is based on none of that.
the inner cred
What I do comes from something that breathes its rhythm like a bellows into that cushion of air lifting and lowering between my bones and my blood; something that courses like chill mountain water through my (often too) nervous system and lights up those eyes that rest, ever at the ready, behind my fingertips. And you can kind of just tell, by running your own eyes along a few of these words, whether you're into it or not, and want more of it or not. And if you do, what I've done doesn't much matter.
But if you're into the "what I've done" thing, I get that, too. And so here's that...
the outer cred
- Received the "Brown University Book Award" for excellence in writing.
- Studied at Northwestern University's Medill School of Journalism.
- Edited the full-length manuscript, Hierarchy in the Forest: An Evolution of Egalitarian Behavior, authored by Christopher Boehm, professor of anthropology at the University of Southern California, and published by Harvard University Press.
- Edited chemistry journal articles for Northwestern University professors, for publication in leading, global journals.
- Served for five years on the editorial board of RHINO, an award-winning poetry journal.
- Published in Where We Live, an Illinois poetry anthology.
My current book of business is filling up fast, but I do have a few openings left. So, if you're interested in working together, I'd love to hear from you! Simply fill out the form below and I'll get back to you within 24 hours.
To the way words peek and peak at our fingertips (which are like little mountains) and spring eternal,