When I was 7 years old, the chimney of a house up the street started spitting sparks and ashes all over the roof. Like all the neighborhood kids, I turned out to see the big, red trucks with their flashing lights – I just happened to bring along a little notebook and stub of a pencil.
“What happened here?” I asked the nearest fireman, dutifully scrawling down his answer about dirty flues and pitchy logs while I readied my follow-up question.
“Can I play on the fire truck?”
He said yes, and my first-ever interview came to a screeching halt.
My technique and my focus have, thankfully, improved over the years. But I’m still irresistibly drawn to stories. They’re everywhere, and though they be hidden I have the knack for winkling them out and sharing them in compelling ways.
I am a digital native with analog hobbies. I’m a huge board game nerd (my current favorite is Scythe), I’ve won a game design contest, and I have about 150 in my collection.
I have a tippy kayak that I paddle poorly and have yet to catch a fish from, though not for lack of trying. I aspire to one day own a Squamscott dory, which may not make me a better angler but I’ll be less likely to fall out of it. In theory.
Although I grew up running barefoot and shirtless through Arkansas summers, I absolutely love New England winters. I’d rather shovel the driveway than mow the lawn any day of the year, and love the hush that suffuses the landscape during a midnight walk through fresh snow.
I’m a two-time melanoma survivor (re: shirtless summers, above), an evangelist for the cast iron skillet and sous vide, and boast several anachronistic skills including beekeeping and juggling, in case you need some bees juggled.