WELCOME

I’m a thinker, a lover of literature, an author, a former journalist, and nowadays I’m working on this motherhood thing.

“The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say,
but what we are unable to say.”

Anais Nin

Pieces: a novel

“Pieces”

“I have a cemetery in my heart. It’s not for the dead, so you’re not there. It’s where I bury people and places that I no longer want.”


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When Clouds Embrace: a children's book

“When Clouds Embrace”

Then I saw two huge, gray clouds. There was blue sky between them, but it was disappearing.

“Are those clouds eating the sky?” I asked.

Dad laughed. “No, they’re just covering it for a short while.”

Finally, the clouds began to touch. “Look, Lukas, do you see their arms? They’re stretching because they’re about to embrace.”


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Tabula Rasa

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    On the Road Constantly Traveled
    June 27, 2017
    For two years, twice a day, at two different ticks of the clock, I took a twenty minute drive along an...
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    On a Happy Place
    June 23, 2017
    When I was seven, my mom led me into the classroom in my new school. In a new country....
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    On Special Strangers
    June 22, 2017
    A little over four years ago, a very pregnant woman walked into the offices of a weekly shipping newspaper....
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    On the New High
    June 14, 2017
    There I was, thinking that the ultimate high is reading a piece of your novel, (pun intended), in front...
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    On When Shit Happens
    June 1, 2017
    About a month ago, I received a priceless gift. My book won a prize, and this prize seemed to...
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    On not my Mother's Day
    May 14, 2017
    I've never been one for showering my mom with flowers on Mother's Day, probably because she barely cares about...
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    On Calling it Quits
    May 10, 2017
    At least once a year, considerably more during this past one, I want to quit writing. To destroy my...
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    On the Irony of a Life Jacket
    May 9, 2017
    In the midst of a room I sit, surrounded by clothes I've been trying to arrange for over ten...
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    On the Beach
    May 5, 2017
    And then, there came a day, when my kid and I lay next to eachother on beach towels, and talked. About...

“Little events, ordinary things, smashed and reconstituted. Suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.”

Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things