Hi.
I’m a North Carolina writer looking at the world and making some sense of it through weaving words together. I hope you'll linger awhile and find your stories in my own.
I’m a North Carolina writer looking at the world and making some sense of it through weaving words together. I hope you'll linger awhile and find your stories in my own.
My license plate says: WRITEMCH, and when I got the vanity plate, my father thought it meant “Write me a check.” Which works, but it is a pun for the very Southern term “right much.” I have always written much, and I hope to write more in the space. Join me, and maybe you’ll discover something about yourself.
In the early spring of 2013, my doctor father contracted pneumonia and a plethora of complications that would take his life. Each week, I took a day or two off to spend time with him, and these stories can be found here.
I’ve always written about my family. The serve, usually with permission, as backdrop to my many voiles and shortcomings. They’ve tolerated it, but recently more than one said: When are you going to write about me?
In May of this year, I was diagnosed with breast cancer —a kidnapping, I’d say — not a journey. A journey is a river cruise or raising a child or climbing up from the floor of the grand canyon. A kidnapping is something that seizes you and takes you along for the ride.
