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Many stories in this collection end with a thread left loose—not unresolved, but breathing. I believe endings don’t need to be absolute to be satisfying.
Life rarely hands us tidy conclusions, so I write endings that echo real emotional rhythms: closure mixed with
Many stories in this collection end with a thread left loose—not unresolved, but breathing. I believe endings don’t need to be absolute to be satisfying.
Life rarely hands us tidy conclusions, so I write endings that echo real emotional rhythms: closure mixed with
I love a twist that lands like a soft exhale rather than a shockwave.
In Broad Shorts, twists are invitations—moments that reframe a character, not punish them. Surprising, but never cruel.
For me, a good twist is one that makes the reader smile gently and think, “Of course.”
That’s
I love a twist that lands like a soft exhale rather than a shockwave.
In Broad Shorts, twists are invitations—moments that reframe a character, not punish them. Surprising, but never cruel.
For me, a good twist is one that makes the reader smile gently and think, “Of course.”
That’s
Writing may look solitary, but Broad Shorts is full of fingerprints: editors, writing groups, mentors, friends, and readers.
Community shaped these stories—through feedback, encouragement, laughter, accountability, and the occasional nudge when I almost gave up.
I’m gratefu
Writing may look solitary, but Broad Shorts is full of fingerprints: editors, writing groups, mentors, friends, and readers.
Community shaped these stories—through feedback, encouragement, laughter, accountability, and the occasional nudge when I almost gave up.
I’m gratefu
Courage doesn’t always roar. In stories like No Longer Brave and TherA, characters find strength in small, surprising ways—through humour, haircut magic, or tender reconnection.
I love exploring vulnerability because it’s the most human sci-fi element of all. Futures feel more
Courage doesn’t always roar. In stories like No Longer Brave and TherA, characters find strength in small, surprising ways—through humour, haircut magic, or tender reconnection.
I love exploring vulnerability because it’s the most human sci-fi element of all. Futures feel more
LYOX gallery on Lyons Rd next to Oxford Hotel. Parking near the corner of Formosa St and Bowman St Drummoyne.
LYOX gallery on Lyons Rd next to Oxford Hotel. Parking near the corner of Formosa St and Bowman St Drummoyne.
A recurring theme in my stories is the sudden shift—the moment life tilts.
In Storm, What Was Lost, and Sebastian’s Sabotage, characters lose something, find something, or stumble into unexpected change.
I’m fascinated by how quickly circumstances can turn, and how gently people
A recurring theme in my stories is the sudden shift—the moment life tilts.
In Storm, What Was Lost, and Sebastian’s Sabotage, characters lose something, find something, or stumble into unexpected change.
I’m fascinated by how quickly circumstances can turn, and how gently people
Some stories in Broad Shorts came during periods of stability. Others arrived during chaos. Writing through change taught me to accept my creative rhythm—slow, gentle, and steady.
Not every season produces big word counts. Some seasons simply reshape the writer. And
Some stories in Broad Shorts came during periods of stability. Others arrived during chaos. Writing through change taught me to accept my creative rhythm—slow, gentle, and steady.
Not every season produces big word counts. Some seasons simply reshape the writer. And
Time travel in Broad Shorts isn’t about paradoxes or timelines collapsing—it’s about emotion.
In New Branch and Sebastian’s Sabotage, characters aren’t trying to “fix history.” They’re trying to understand themselves.
I write time travel the way I experience memory: fluid,
Time travel in Broad Shorts isn’t about paradoxes or timelines collapsing—it’s about emotion.
In New Branch and Sebastian’s Sabotage, characters aren’t trying to “fix history.” They’re trying to understand themselves.
I write time travel the way I experience memory: fluid,
Dogs appear often in Broad Shorts, and there’s a simple reason: they’re grounding. Loyal. Present. They see us clearly when we can’t.
Patchy—my own dog—appears in spirit in stories like Storm and What Was Lost. Those pieces grew from the everyday rituals of dog companionship:
Dogs appear often in Broad Shorts, and there’s a simple reason: they’re grounding. Loyal. Present. They see us clearly when we can’t.
Patchy—my own dog—appears in spirit in stories like Storm and What Was Lost. Those pieces grew from the everyday rituals of dog companionship:
Science fiction doesn’t need explosions to explore possibility.
I write “Gentle Sci-Fi”—stories with curiosity, softness, and open doors rather than warnings.
In Digital Air and TherA, I imagined futures that still feel human: technology that nudges connection, not
Science fiction doesn’t need explosions to explore possibility.
I write “Gentle Sci-Fi”—stories with curiosity, softness, and open doors rather than warnings.
In Digital Air and TherA, I imagined futures that still feel human: technology that nudges connection, not
Keys. Teatowels. Old couches. Haircuts.
I love writing about tiny things with quiet gravity. Objects that carry memory, comfort, or a hint of the mysterious.
In Broad Shorts, everyday items become companions, catalysts, or witnesses. They hold stories even when
Keys. Teatowels. Old couches. Haircuts.
I love writing about tiny things with quiet gravity. Objects that carry memory, comfort, or a hint of the mysterious.
In Broad Shorts, everyday items become companions, catalysts, or witnesses. They hold stories even when
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Anna and Patchy
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Anna and Patchy
Some endings come softly. Some change everything. Some never really arrive.
These stories were written over four years—during early-morning writing sessions, quiet weekends, and life seasons that forced me to
Some endings come softly. Some change everything. Some never really arrive.
These stories were written over four years—during early-morning writing sessions, quiet weekends, and life seasons that forced me to