The first story I remember writing recounted the high-flying escapades of Henry the bird, who left his quiet countryside abode to visit his daredevil cousin for a dizzying tour of New York City. In fifth grade, I got hooked on nonfiction when I wrote my first research paper—on homing pigeons (birds again!). These winged heroes made their mark on history swooping in and out of war zones delivering emergency messages. Flying through enemy fire, some even saved lives and received medals for their service.
Today, I’m still writing stories—and, as it turns out, some of them are still about birds. Like the one about puffin chicks on an island in Maine, who emerge from their rocky burrows in the dark of night—in a flurry of wings and little feet—make a mad dash to the water’s edge, and hurl themselves into the cold sea, where they live for several years without ever returning to land. I’ve also told stories about treehouses and Arctic ice cores. I’ve met miso makers, oyster farmers, lawn fanatics, and famous chefs. And I’ve been honored to write a number of stories about remarkable people living with disabilities.
My work has appeared in national publications, including Smithsonian, Family Circle, Ladies Home Journal, Saveur, The Washington Post, Boston Globe, The Christian Science Monitor, the Philadelphia Inquirer, and Yankee. I’ve also been an editor at several magazines, crafted content for corporate clients, and taken on a few book and film projects, including Dinner on the Diner, a short travel series that aired on PBS. I hope you enjoy reading some of these stories as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them.
These days I write mostly about Africa, as part of the donor communications team at The Nature Conservancy. Every proposal and report, case statement and custom letter tells a story. Each one reflects TNC’s conviction that people and nature can—and must—coexist. And thanks to our readers, TNC’s most loyal supporters, these stories often spark immense generosity. That’s the thing about stories. They can deepen understanding. They can change perspective. They can inspire action. And that’s how solutions take shape. That’s how we find our way to a more sustainable and just world—one story at a time.
I write from my home office beneath the towering oaks that fill the woods along this stretch of New Hampshire seacoast, not far from the site of a TNC oyster reef restoration project I’ve written about several times through the years. When I’m not writing, I love to dig in the garden, play the piano, and sample my husband’s latest hearty soup. Occasionally, I walk to town, making my way across the river and past the granite mills that once churned out yards of cotton textiles. For 15 years, I ran a music and arts festival in the shadow of these historic mills, a celebration of community past and present, a reminder of the town’s proud immigrant roots. Today, the mills are thriving again, full of new business, new people—new stories.
