Hi, I’m Elle. <3
I write curious fiction from beyond the rabbit hole and perform heart surgery on manuscripts missing their soul. I’m currently taking a break from my weirdly prophetic pandemic novel (yikes!) and working on reorganizing my bookshelf after two years of grief in the Doldrums. When I’m not writing, you can find me singing like a sad ghost, inspiring others as a professional muse, reading aloud to my cat, or panic-eating peanut butter in the upstairs closet.
I have my MFA in Creative Writing from Southern New Hampshire University and my BA in English from Thomas Edison State University. Learn more about me here…
Hi, I’m Elle. <3
I write curious fiction from beyond the rabbit hole and perform heart surgery on manuscripts missing their soul. I’m currently taking a break from my weirdly prophetic pandemic novel (yikes!) and working on reorganizing my bookshelf after two years of grief in the Doldrums. When I’m not writing, you can find me singing like a sad ghost, inspiring others as a professional muse, reading aloud to my cat, or panic-eating peanut butter in the upstairs closet.
I have my MFA in Creative Writing from Southern New Hampshire University and my BA in English from Thomas Edison State University. Learn more about me here…
In 2019, I began work on my novel Her. Like most of my ideas, it started as an image: a mother holding her young daughter, looking out over a crumbling road as a weary sun set on a sickened, dying world. I didn’t know then—how could anyone?
Published on Intrinsick Magazine: The buttered body of Christ bathed in Sunday sunlight upon a polished silver platter. I dropped the crystal cover on the vestry floor and stifled a cough. Dust stuck to the spines of old hymnals, the abandoned robes of dead choir members, and a set of forgotten advent angels.
When Jesus walked into the nuthouse, I knew things would get interesting. Our savior wore a muddy gray t-shirt, a pair of ripped jeans my mother would never allow past her seasonal welcome mat, and a pair of really rad, orange converse.
Published on Reflex Press: Eyes snap open, stirred by a silent alarm. She peels stiff covers from her frigid skin, chilled by a thermostat set to 64 degrees, even in winter. Gray-socked feet hit the stained carpet, and she wiggles her toes. They’re painted a forbidden red.
I usually write these blogs on my phone, while stuffing my mouth with chocolate. Reruns of FRIENDS from my mother’s HBO Max account may or may not be ever-playing on my TV in the background (I want to be a Joey, but I know I’m a neurotic Rachel).
I can promise you zero live, laugh, love quotes in these rambling monologues, but I can also promise you at least two hearty “fucks” and a good sprinkling of unapologetic nihilism. Also, I’m wildly inconsistent.
I usually write these blogs on my phone, while stuffing my mouth with chocolate. Reruns of FRIENDS from my mother’s HBO Max account may or may not be ever-playing on my TV in the background (I want to be a Joey, but I know I’m a neurotic Rachel).
I can promise you zero live, laugh, love quotes in these rambling monologues, but I can also promise you at least two hearty “fucks” and a good sprinkling of unapologetic nihilism. Also, I’m wildly inconsistent.
When I’m not writing, I’m reading cathartic feminist novels, demon sex fantasy epics, or one of my old Berenstain Bears books. Sometimes you just need the wisdom of patient Mama Bear to get you through a Tuesday.
I like writing about books, too. I used to do that more, but then I realized I was writing about other people’s books more than my own. Listen, I just love books, and one day I will disappear into an ethereal, floating library. It will have at least six fluffy cats and unlimited tea.
Anyway, I moved all my Book Reviews to Instagram in 2022. You can also read some of my archived reviews below. If you’d like me to review your story or ARC, send me a message, but no promises. I might hate it.
When I’m not writing, I’m reading cathartic feminist novels, demon sex fantasy epics, or one of my old Berenstain Bears books. Sometimes you just need the wisdom of patient Mama Bear to get you through a Tuesday.
I like writing about books, too. I used to do that more, but then I realized I was writing about other people’s books more than my own. Listen, I just love books, and one day I will disappear into an ethereal, floating library. It will have at least six fluffy cats and unlimited tea.
Anyway, I moved all my Book Reviews to Instagram in 2022. You can also read some of my archived reviews below. If you’d like me to review your story or ARC, send me a message, but no promises. I might hate it.
Elle offers content writing and creative coaching. She won’t give up on your messy manuscript, and you shouldn’t either! Send her an email about your project, and she’ll resurrect it from the dead (zombie apocalypse subplot optional).