I make a difference through storytelling. As a former teacher and mother of children with chronic illnesses, including Type 1 diabetes, life-threatening food allergies, and AIWS, I write for the kids too often forgotten in stories. Watching my son’s resilience in recovering from a devastating accident and my daughter’s courage managing Type 1 diabetes, inspired me to write The Disorder, a Young Adult Dystopian Thriller that reimagines medically different and neurodivergent teens as heroes.
This story is a defiant anthem for every young person who has ever been made to feel small, different, or powerless. My goal is to show that the courage, tenacity, and self-advocacy kids like mine live with every day are not limitations, but proof of extraordinary strength, and to normalize medical and mobility devices as symbols of health, courage, and survival, never weakness.
I write for representation. Kids who live with chronic illness, allergies, disabilities, or neurodivergence rarely see themselves as heroes in books or on screen. When they do appear, they are often side characters or victims to be saved. Through fiction, I aim to shatter stigma, shift perception, and redefine what strength looks like.
Helping kids who face daily struggles feel seen and proud of themselves fills my heart and gives me purpose. Sharing my family’s journey through story transforms pain into connection and isolation into empowerment. Knowing that a child who feels different can pick up my book and see their challenges reflected as courage is the greatest reward I could ask for.
Lifting others up means recognizing the strength that lives in our differences. To me, that is the heart of America: the belief that courage is not measured by perfection, but by perseverance. When we choose to celebrate one another’s resilience, we build a country defined by empathy, unity, and unstoppable hope.
This story is a defiant anthem for every young person who has ever been made to feel small, different, or powerless. My goal is to show that the courage, tenacity, and self-advocacy kids like mine live with every day are not limitations, but proof of extraordinary strength, and to normalize medical and mobility devices as symbols of health, courage, and survival, never weakness.
I write for representation. Kids who live with chronic illness, allergies, disabilities, or neurodivergence rarely see themselves as heroes in books or on screen. When they do appear, they are often side characters or victims to be saved. Through fiction, I aim to shatter stigma, shift perception, and redefine what strength looks like.
Helping kids who face daily struggles feel seen and proud of themselves fills my heart and gives me purpose. Sharing my family’s journey through story transforms pain into connection and isolation into empowerment. Knowing that a child who feels different can pick up my book and see their challenges reflected as courage is the greatest reward I could ask for.
Lifting others up means recognizing the strength that lives in our differences. To me, that is the heart of America: the belief that courage is not measured by perfection, but by perseverance. When we choose to celebrate one another’s resilience, we build a country defined by empathy, unity, and unstoppable hope.