Telling Stories

Writers write.  Through changing seasons and life events and worldwide pandemics, we write.  We tell stories and create images and try to find reason amidst chaos.  During  the Coronavirus period of withdrawal and isolation, I kept to the house and sewed facemasks, which led me to boxes of fabric I had accumulated over the years and to boxes of old photos.  From there, my stories evolved into stitched pieces. I also continued to write fiction.  You will find both on these pages, and here is my debut novel from Serving House Books:

Our Hands Are Pale as Milk is a fictional account of  the life of Claire Clairmont, stepsister of Mary Shelley, mother of Lord Byron's daughter, and a faithful companion of Percy Bysshe Shelley. And the cover is a piece of my stitchery.   Enjoy.