I've been working as a freelance journalist and essayist since 2006. My writing has appeared in Forbes, Salon, MSN and other publications. Browse a selection of recent work below.
While tracing a branch of my family tree back to the 1700s, I discovered that my ninth-great grandfather, a devout pacifist, had been massacred by Indians. And his story contained enough drama to fill several Hollywood blockbusters.
My town has a long and storied past. I grew up surrounded by preserved farmsteads and blue historical markers. Even the Amish horse-drawn buggies that slowed traffic seemed like relics of a long-ago time. But I never considered this history my own until the day my great-aunt Kathleen called.
For many Americans, Dorthea Lange’s “Migrant Mother” photo is the defining image of the Great Depression. But it’s just one of over 170,000 commissioned by the U.S. Farm Security Administration and Office of War Information during the 1930s and early 1940s.
Every copywriter has an unfinished manuscript tucked in a desk drawer, goes an old advertising cliche. ,,, I, too, am a copywriter with a manuscript. And until a few months ago, I too had an identity crisis. But mine wasn’t a struggle between art and commerce. I just couldn’t find my voice.
My friend and I were chatting about genealogy when I mentioned that my one of my ancestors might have belonged to a Satanic cult. “Wow,” she gushed. “Everyone hopes to find an interesting story in their family tree, but you really hit the jackpot!”
As a girl, I wanted to be an astronaut when I grew up. Or a heart surgeon. Or maybe one of those movie stars who adopted kids from third-world countries. Whatever my future career, I wanted to be glamorous, and I wanted to change people’s lives.