Born in Illinois. Raised in Missouri. Built from grief, stubbornness, and whatever’s left when the world keeps kicking. Now based in Georgia. Still standing.

I’ve been obsessed with movies since I was eight. Not the noise—the intention. That moment I realized every shot, every line of dialogue, every cut was a choice—someone made that. It hit like a lightning bolt. I didn’t want to just watch films. I wanted to build them. Break them. Bleed into them.

In the beginning, it was all explosions and evil masterminds—popcorn pulp written by hand in spiral notebooks. But life dragged its nails across my chest: death, addiction, broken family, trauma that doesn’t wrap neatly in third-act redemption. And somewhere in all that mess, the stories changed. They got heavier. More human. More true.

I earned my MFA in Professional Screenwriting in 2021, and yeah, I’ve been recognized by festivals—Austin, Richmond, Nashville, Vail, Screencraft, Scriptapalooza. But what matters more is this: I write stories that aren’t trying to please. They’re trying to say what nobody else will. If I do it right, you don’t clap—you flinch.

My scripts are about grief, survival, shame, silence, and the moments that break you open and show you who you actually are. I’m not chasing trends. I’m not here for SEO. I’m here because I can’t not write this shit down.

These days, I write like someone who knows how short this all is. I write like I’m running out of time—because I am. We all are.

You want the mission statement?
Fine.
Here it is:
Make something real. Or don’t bother.