I am an author and former teacher from Ontario, Canada. My non-fiction writing has been featured in major newspapers such as The Toronto Star and Canada's national newspaper, The Globe and Mail. In addition, my poetry, short stories, personal essays and children's stories have been published at kotapress, The Sidewalk's End, Animal Antics, River Walk Journal, Moondance: Celebrating Creative Women, and Autism/Aspergers's Digest.

Besides writing, I also manage The Writing Bridge, which was recently recognized for the third straight year as one of Writer's Digest's Top 101 Sites for Writers.

I'm proud of the site and I'm proud of what I've accomplished with my writing, but I have a long way to go to reach my goals. Perhaps being here can keep me in the proper frame of mind.

My passion is ...

anything related to the arts & humanities: music, dance, language, the good in the common man

I know too much about ...

the signs of illness, and sometimes it causes undue worry.

My parents always told me ...

to expect nothing and I would never be disappointed. :(

My childhood ambition ...

was to be a famous dancer.

My favorite memory ...

is of the first time my husband kissed me.

Why I write ...

I write because otherwise I'd drown in my thoughts.

What I am reading/watching/listening to ...

I am reading Writer's Digest Magazine; watching Lost; listening to Ray Charles

My first job ...

was as a nineteen-year old teacher in an inner-city school.

My best moment ...

was the minute my first child was born.

My inspiration ...

comes from people: their secret needs, hidden hurts, diverse dreams

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Heartbreak

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JUST LIKE YESTERDAY

A little girl,
soft and delicate,
visited today.
She twisted her curls
and chased my cats.
Her tiny voice tugged
at my resisting heart
and opened the wound
that reminds me of Emily...
and now sleep will not come,
just like yesterday.

On warm September nights
like this,
I lay awake
counting kicks and dreaming
of a dark-haired child,
dimpled and velvet-skinned,
with an upturned nose;
of baby giggles
and tiny arms
wrapped tight around my neck.

She would listen, wide-eyed,
to stories of princesses and magic
and tell me secrets;
and wan...

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