Elle writes curious fiction from beyond the rabbit hole and performs heart surgery on manuscripts missing their soul. She’s currently taking a break from her weirdly prophetic pandemic novel (yikes!) and working on a dark urban fantasy about demons, mercy, and fallen angels. When Elle’s not writing, you can find her singing like a sad ghost, reading aloud to her cat, or panic-eating peanut butter in the upstairs closet.
Elle has her MFA in Creative Writing from Southern New Hampshire University and her BA in English from Thomas Edison State University. Learn more about Elle…
Elle writes curious fiction from beyond the rabbit hole and performs heart surgery on manuscripts missing their soul. She’s currently taking a break from her weirdly prophetic pandemic novel (yikes!) and working on a dark urban fantasy about demons, mercy, and fallen angels. When Elle’s not writing, you can find her singing like a sad ghost, reading aloud to her cat, or panic-eating peanut butter in the upstairs closet.
Elle has her MFA in Creative Writing from Southern New Hampshire University and her BA in English from Thomas Edison State University. Learn more about Elle…
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.
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.
Isabella was a single white rose in the midst of half a dozen red ones. Held together by pin and lace, like a delicate, porcelain doll, she paused. Would she melt away if anyone spilled crimson wine on her ivory silhouette?
Elle has a habit of falling into books and getting lost in their pages. This year, she’s climbing the shelves of the Beast’s enchanted library to complete twenty-five book reviews by the end of 2021. Don’t worry, she’s leaving a trail of breadcrumbs this time. Fancy, cheddar bay biscuit breadcrumbs. Follow her adventures below, but please leave the buttery dough slices on the ground. She needs those to get back.
Elle has a habit of falling into books and getting lost in their pages. This year, she’s climbing the shelves of the Beast’s enchanted library to complete twenty-five book reviews by the end of 2021. Don’t worry, she’s leaving a trail of breadcrumbs this time. Fancy, cheddar bay biscuit breadcrumbs. Follow her adventures below, but please leave the buttery dough slices on the ground. She needs those to get back.
Written with a mouthful of melting chocolate after a 3 am existential crisis, Elle’s midnight monologues consider the consequences of breaking that live, laugh, love sign and taping the pieces into one giant question mark. Does it go with the Instagram-ready, aesthetically effortless theme? Probably not, but life’s messy and weird and so is the best art.
Written with a mouthful of melting chocolate after a 3 am existential crisis, Elle’s midnight monologues consider the consequences of breaking that live, laugh, love sign and taping the pieces into one giant question mark. Does it go with the Instagram-ready, aesthetically effortless theme? Probably not, but life’s messy and weird and so is the best art.
Elle’s a ride or die writing coach. 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).