September 2017 is World Suicide Prevention month.  Not just America and not just awareness.



This means the entire world has been called to action.  Action means more than tweeting “don’t kill yourself b/c there is more to live for #suicide”.  It’s great that you wanted to kind of be supportive – even though that kind of language is exactly what keeps suicidal or depressed people quiet in the first place – by tweeting, but this only goes so far.  In fact, it might even trigger someone who’s been fighting the voice telling them to do it.  Instead of posting some vague statement under 140 characters, why not really do something about it?

An amazing organization has already taken the initiative.  TWLOHA [To Write Love On Her Arms] has paired up with to fundraise $100,000 for treatment and support for those struggling against suicide.  They have 3 options on their webpage (): buy WSPD pack of merchandise, donate directly, or start your own fundraising page.

As someone who’s survived suicidal thoughts/actions and lost friends/colleagues to suicide, there was no hesitation.  Just yesterday I created a fundraising page with the hope of surpassing $500 for others out there who need the love we all have to offer. Below is the link.  I emplore you all to donate, share this post, and do your part in saving lives, including your own.

If you, yourself are struggling with these thoughts or actions, don’t hesitate to call the suicide hotline (1-800-273-8255), a trusted family member or friend, or even me.  I’m just am email or facebook/Instagram message away.


A Letter to a Lost Little Girl

Dear little girl sitting criss-cross applesauce on the rainbow mat before me,

You sit so quietly at the front of the group, stuck between two obnoxious children who know not the meaning of respect.  I see the way you keep your head slightly lower than the others, how you pull your knees to your chest as tightly as you can.  A buffer – for what, I’m afraid only you and your tormentors know.  Your eyes wide, seeing everything that no one else would’ve taken notice of.  A red shirt.  Tapping a shoe.  A sharp laugh.  It’s simple survival skills: spot the danger, flee for your life.  Our ancestors’ ability to detect and evade danger was sharpened to a fine point.  It had to be, or else the predator would sink its teeth into their necks and end the human race before it started.

But you, my Love, your predators have no fangs or claws to rip into your skin.  They have fists that punch, gestures that sting, and words that bruise.  They may not maim you physically, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t destroyed your heart.  You feel powerless, right?  You think there must be something wrong with you.  That maybe, just maybe, if you were better they would leave you alone.  

But better at what?

My Darling, when I met your warm yet fearful dark eyes in that classroom as you whispered your question to me, my body flooded with compassion.  Your classmates inquired things like favorite movies or favorite characters, but you?  All you wanted to know was that you weren’t the only one.  You were maybe 7 years old, yet already your life was being mutilated by people who had no idea their words and actions could possibly hurt someone.  

All I had time to say to your hurting soul was that you were beautiful and amazing.  People often got picked on if others were jealous of them.  I’m so sorry that I was cut off before I could finish.

Little girl who reached out to someone they saw as an idol, I want you to know that I love you even when it feels like no one does.  I want to let you know there is more to life than ignorant bullies who find life’s biggest thrills in hurting those of us with a heart.  I want you to know that I was bullied all through my middle and high school years, and probably will encounter more of it in the future.  I want you to know that people will come into your life who care for you so much that even when your bullies mark you up with insults and jeers, their love will heal those other injuries before you even realize they’re gone.  I need you to know that you are not alone.  You never will be.  I promise.

Now it’s your turn to promise me something, my beautiful Little Girl with a bright future.  Promise me that you will always keep fighting.  That you will strive for happiness in whatever shape or size you can get your hands on.  That you will acknowledge those harsh interactions, but remember that they can never tarnish your shine.

I offer you all my love.  The only thing left is for you to love yourself, too.


New Spoken Word!

Check out this spoken word I just posted.  I was inspired to create this piece by a little girl I met at an author visit.  She had wanted to know if I had been bullied; I said yes, I have.  She then asked how I became so strong.  I honestly had to fight back tears.  I couldn’t believe she looked up to me that way!  I chose to honor her through this piece in the hopes it will give her the strength she – and you – needs to find her own power within.



Ripped Phonecase

She sits in a deathly silent classroom.  One sound attracting every eye in the room.  “How are you screw up,” they seem to whisper.  “How dare you not be like the rest of us.”  

Her fingers are preoccupied with a piece of plastic sticking off her tattered phone case.  Little tugs and rips had finally taken their toll: the entire back was torn off, exposing a rough layer underneath not ready to be handled by persistent, germy fingers. A little piece of the case comes off between her fingertips.  The extra movement bounces her phone off the desk with cludd that reverberates around the room of quiet students.  Less than a moment and each pair of narrowed eyes snap to the sound.  “How dare she…” “How dare she..”  She drops the little piece to the floor as if nothing had happened.


Lurgen Elementary May 2017

In May, I stopped in at Lurgen Elementary School and spoke to the Third, Fourth, and Fifth graders.  It’d had been a while since I’d gotten to do something like this.  I missed it!

Before my presentation, I try to sign two boxes of books for some eager kids!
I think this was the part where I was talking about how important editing your writing was. The teachers were beaming!
After speaking, I was taking questions from the kids. One question asked for a hug, because I had made her day better. How could I say no to that?
Monkey see, monkey do. Everyone else wanted a hug or high five!
Even when the kids were supposed to be returning to their classrooms, a few strayed from the lines to ask me one last question or two.

Amelia Givin Library July 2012

Author Visit at the Amelia Givin Library in Mount Holly Springs, PA.  July 18, 2012 – this was such an exciting opportunity!  

Thank you, Lisa Webber (Children’s Programmer), for a wonderful evening!
signing books at the Amelia Givin Library
Ellie – Amelia Givin Library
Celia – Amelia Givin Library
Shawn – Amelia Givin Library
Benjamin and Nora – Amelia Givin Library



Emily – Amelia Givin Library



New Franklin Elementary 2012

I had an author visit with Mr. Cubbage’s fifth grade class at New Franklin Elementary School.  What a wonderful time reading my book to the class!



Chambersburg Admin 2011

It was a good night at my book signing in Chambersburg on  November 17, 2011. I met some wonderful readers ready to embark on their next reading adventure!



Trinity United Methodist Craft Show 2011

I had a great time selling and signing books at the craft show at Trinity United Methodist Church on November 12, 2011.

I signed Anna Wilson’s copy of Elves of Zeoch: The Last Two.
Babs Menges bought this book to send to her nephew in Sweden!


Brashong [Brah-zshong]:

Brashong is incredibly joyous and friendly, even to strangers.  This young gallop is always full of ideas and has a naturally helpful instinct – to a fault.  He is a different color than most gallops; he has a blue upper body and a white lower body, like his father, Brenas.  The rest of his features align with typical gallops (eye stalks, mynapathy, etc).   Unlike his older brother, Poot, Brashong was forced by his mother into serving for Gorgon’s army, which is how he met Camilla, yet stayed loyal to his happy, attentive self.  After aiding in Camilla’s escape, he remained with the sisters and his brother.