My short stories have been published in The Coil, Arcturus Magazine, Capsule Stories, Peripheral Surveys, and as a collection available on Amazon. I’m currently looking for a home for a novel about a country star and her husband lost for 24 hours in Rio de Janeiro.
I'm currently an MFA student at the Writing Seminars at Johns Hopkins University. Previously, I've been the writing assistant to Pulitzer-Prize winning playwright Nilo Cruz, providing creative assistance, editing, and translation. I have collaborated on screenplays with producer-director Julie Pacino, and have ghostwritten screenplays for others. I've been a regular at the San Francisco Writers Grotto since 2017.
In January 2021, I founded the arts journal Gush as a venue for celebrating exceptional art in any medium. I'm also a singer-songwriter on the Shorewave Records roster, and my recordings are available on any streaming service.
Short fiction, published in The Coil, 2022
About 120 years ago, during a campaign against the U.S. Army in Cuba, several Spanish soldiers reported seeing a bluish burst in the sky that lasted no more than two seconds. The sun had set, but the sky was fluorescent, likely a chemical byproduct of artillery as the event occurred in the very heat of the Battle of Cienfuegos.
Short fiction, published in Arcturus Magazine, 2021
Miami was the city Managua dreamed of being and woke up shattered that it was not. All the colors shone confidently: the palm trees knew how green their fronds were expected to be, the streetlamps glowed an opulent white. The billboards were fresh, the neon sharper. They flew between LED skyscrapers, past the islands alongside MacArthur Causeway, through colors and music, voices and skin.
Short fiction, published in Capsule Stories: Isolation Edition, April 2020
The highways and streets that had led me from San Francisco to our little Washington town of Meadow Glade had been vacant strips of gray, like something written in pencil and then hurriedly erased. Ten hours of driving with the feeling of having just forgotten something; exhausted though all I’d done was keep my car straight.
My parents’ garage door was opened, but I stopped short of it. I staggered out of my pre-pre-pre-owned Impala, and smiled at my parents across the no man’s land of our yard.
Film review on gushreview.com
Columbus is the first and only film directed by South Korean-American director Kogonada. Like Truffaut before him, he seems to come out of the woodwork with a polished style and a sensitive mastery of cinematic expression. The tone, pacing, cinematography (by Elisha Christian), and everything else in Columbus are perfectly tuned for this story.
On the blue pleather chairs of the departure lounge, Olivia Strathouse sat as though leaning out of a vase, contorting away from her husband to better hear her daughter on the phone.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you, hon. Tell me again?”
The overhead speakers blared: “Last call for American Airlines flight 272 to Quito, gate B4.”
Cole, her husband, sat a few seats away eating a chicken sandwich. He was trying not to stare at her, because she didn’t like it when he did that, and he was always doing it.
TV Pilot, developed with Julie Pacino & Niklas Ramo
Teaser FADE IN:
EXT. HOUSE - ESTABLISHING - NIGHT
A quiet night in an affluent gated community in Miami, "San Amaro Village". Over shots of a large glass house, we hear an engine drawing near.
EXT. BACKYARD - NIGHT
As it gets louder, a white Maltese dog named COCO looks out a back window from atop a kitchen counter, and then he disappears. The kitchen door opens by itself and Coco walks out, down the stairs, and into the night.
Single, released May 2020
This changes nothing, we weren't ever too close.
Olivia's moving back to the east coast.
Felt so good to be near you, but I can keep myself warm.
She thinks she'd feel better living closer to home.
I can see her walking away, but they make it so easy to stay where you've always lived.
Took the 1 down to Half Moon, thought even oceans must end.
Olivia's scared of being just somebody's girlfriend.
You’re always with somebody else, you keep changing partners cause you can’t change yourself.
But now you've got nowhere to go, stay home watching reruns in yesterday’s clothes.
Just slow down and watch her, lay and relax, nothing can stop her, she shatters like glass.
Dissolving in water, melting like wax, a stop motion camera, she's moving too fast.
— Stop Motion Camera, 2016