Butterfly, butterfly, where do you fly? Where do you fly, my butterfly?

I came to the United States as a child speaking only six words of English; none of them particularly useful in my opinion, but feel free to judge for yourself ☝️.

My relationship with the English language was complicated. Falling in love with it and following the mind doors it opened created fissures with the immigrant cradle that nursed me. Fiction writing was a forbidden path. And yet, I couldn't seem to help myself. Thus, decades of friction and dualities ensued!

(Here I must apologize for my heartstring-pulling as the story above is just a long-winded justification for not holding an MFA.)

I love heightened situations, poignant absurdity, and writing that bursts off the page. I'm intrigued by the bold and the transgressive, especially when they form the inner lining rather than the outer skin of a character. I believe that humor and horror not only can but must co-exist. I always reach for the sophisticated idea and the rarefied prose in the bush, but sometimes take the foul-mouthed dog, pot-smoking grandma, and giant fake boobs in hand. I comfort myself with the knowledge that even Shakespeare dumpster-dived for LOLs.

I'm old enough to feel nostalgic for the 90s while questioning how anyone survived them.

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Writers I admire include Tana French, Gary Shteyngart, Salman Rushdie, Anthony Marra, Tim O'Brien, Toni Morrison, Victor Pelevin, Gillian Flynn, Chuck Palahniuk, Michael Ondaatje, Vladimir Nabokov, Meg Wolitzer, Sloane Crosley, George Orwell, Celeste Ng.