Books have been my escape for as long as I can remember.  I used to hide fantasy books behind my government textbook in high school, and I wrote almost an entire novel during a semester of algebra. Erm, I mean… stay in school, kids.

I started writing in self defense because it was the only way to get the voices in my head to shut up (that’s perfectly normal, please don’t have me committed). I didn’t start writing about people with disabilities until I was twenty-one. That was when I had a second scoliosis surgery and a poorly placed epidural left me with partial paraplegia. While I was in rehab learning to walk again, I realized that all the heroic characters I read about could run and jump and swing a sword. I never saw any that looked and walked like I do now.

And then it occurred to me: why didn’t I write some? Maybe if I wanted to read about fantasy heroes who live with disabilities, other people might too. That’s why I write young adult fantasy where the heroes kick butt with whatever they can find: canes, crutches…wheelchairs. Hey you might even find an AFO thrown in for good measure (that’s an Ankle-Foot-Orthotic FWIW). But my books aren’t just for those of us who sport handicap placards or drive conversion vans. They’re for anyone that’s ever felt different.

I’m not published yet, but my novel, By Wingéd Chair, was awarded first place in the science fiction/fantasy category of the Pikes Peak Writers’ Zebulon contest.


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