What’s in a [virtual latte]?

I’m the literary lovechild of Anne Lamott and David Sedaris.

My writing is a mix of wit and gravity - not quite humor, although you’ll likely laugh, not quite spirituality, although you’ll feel it in your bones.

Despite writing for hire for years, some ghostly bits and some copy drudgery, before the [virtual latte] much of my own writing lived in a nebulous folder called ‘archive writing.’

Occasionally, when the spirit moved me to word and the spirit lifted my inhibitions, I would share something unstructured and personally reflective via social media. These (sometimes) great pieces would just flow out of me in one draft and get sent. Most of the time there would be some good liking and sharing and some comments, but what really kept me brave with the share button were the personal replies that said

“I could never have put it into words, but this is how I feel, too.”

“I laughed, and then I cried, and then I laughed again.”

“This piece hit me in the soul.”

Other times I would write and discard, feeling like I had one or two great lines and a bunch of nonsense in-between. If it didn’t feel perfect, it went into the archival abyss. I have two old iPhones with notes from the last ten or twelve years, most of which are fragments of things that have sunk into the depths of electronic storage or are lost somewhere in a cloud. Frequently, a single line would emerge in a burst of teaching. A yoga class, a facilitation, a training. The moment of shared gravity would hit us all the same way

The [virtual latte] is the landing place for my best lines - a nest that surrounds a collection of ideas and best lines woven together into something that evokes relationship, resonance, and feeling.

I write weekly - under deadline - and force my work through a three edit process, because much of my work improves with editing (even my own eye). Rather than drafting and posting, or drafting and archiving, it’s forced me to have a relationship with the work. To persevere, and to post, and to move on. Things I think we could all use help with when it’s easier to quit, or to archive, or perpetually ruminate.

My writing is fueled by good coffee AND good conversation. It dances between a range of unlikely topics. Here are a few examples, from the archives…

How I introduce myself to my airplane seat mates

Where I found myself on January 6th

And the strange questions only I think to ask:

As a token of my thanks, paid subscribers will receive a fresh, weekly [virtual latte] in their inbox Sunday mornings at 6am MDT. Topics are raw and unfiltered, what I’m thinking about. What I’ve been wondering over the week.

As for the bit about conversation… I invite paid subscribers to share your thoughts, feelings, reflections, and questions with other like-minded readers. I’ll read them to. Might even respond with a very personal opus.

Free subscribers will get ‘free sips’ as well as full book reviews.

For Connoisseurs… dip into the archives, check your mailbox

Best of both worlds - a fresh latte each week in your inbox, and a place where you can re-visit all previous lattes. Plus I occasionally send post-cards.

In order for me to do this, you will need to send me your mailing address. I promise to only send postcards.

Ok, but who the heck am I?

I am the literary love-child of Anne Lamott and David Sedaris, raised on a healthy diet by Oliver Sacks & Robert Sapolsky. My work is self-reflective and episodic. It dances inside of unlikely juxtapositions, a bit like savory waffles.

(Which are a thing)

My biological parents happen to also be the parents who raised me — two PhDs who took me to see Yo-Yo Ma before my third birthday, and enrolled me in a mythic and strange elementary school named for the home of the elves in the Tolkien flagship: Rivendell. I was an anatomist before I could read, and first saluted the sun while ankle-deep in crabgrass outside of my Kindergarten classroom, so it’s safe to say yoga chose me, not the other way around.

I do not remember a time before music, words, science, and yoga graced my life, and so you’ll find them woven through and around the stories that narrate the deep troughs of my grief and reflect on the bizarre hilarity of my family of origin. My work here is biographical, often biological, and lyrical, sometimes simultaneously.

My topics are everywhere, occasionally hard things, as I attempt to make (and share) meaning.

(I’m glad you’re here).

My mantra?

Live a life worth writing about. Then write about it.

Try it on?

Report back.