I write plays about ordinary people navigating the extraordinary, whether that extraordinariness comes from history, memory, loss, or the unseen worlds that press against our own. My characters tend to live on the margins of major events — I call it "writing in the gaps of history." Whether my characters are fumbling on the cutting edge of television, caretakers in an adult family home, immigrant families surviving the Depression, frontier women watching their land burn, or men fighting against Nature's fury to save others, what they seek is universal: connection, dignity, hope, and meaning.

My work blends compassionate realism with theatrical imagination. I’m drawn to stories where the everyday can suddenly tilt: a ghost intrudes, a memory fractures time, a literary character steps out of a writer’s mind, or two eras overlap in the same physical space. These moments aren’t illusions or tricks; they’re theatrical expressions of inner life: grief made visible, memory made spatial, imagination given form. I believe theater is uniquely equipped to show the invisible, and I try to let those possibilities deepen, not distract from, the humanity of the story.

At the center of every play I write is the ensemble. I value the ways people echo, contradict, and transform one another. Dialogue is my first love: its rhythms, its collisions, its humor, its small wounds, its unexpected tenderness. I aim to create scenes actors can live inside of, where emotional truth emerges through conversation rather than exposition. I’m especially interested in intergenerational stories: how younger characters inherit worlds they didn’t build, and how older characters cling to the worlds they fear are vanishing.

Whether I’m writing about historical events or contemporary issues, I try to approach each character with dignity and curiosity. I’m not interested in villains or saints, only people doing their best within the limits of their fear, love, or imagination. My hope is that audiences leave my plays with a deeper sense that every life—no matter how overlooked—contains poetry, longing, humor, and a story worth telling.

The theater, at its best, reminds us that we’re not alone. That’s what I strive to do with every play: offer a window into lives we might not otherwise see, and invite audiences to recognize themselves in the people who live there.