I've wanted to be a writer since I was a kid. At 19, when my creative writing professor urged me to switch from accounting to pursue writing, I told her: "I grew up poor. I'm not going to be a starving artist. First I'll make money, then I'll write."

It took me decades.

I started my first company at 23, struggled, succeeded, and then lost everything in the aftermath of 9/11. I rebuilt from scratch and eventually sold a business. I learned negotiation, discipline, how to read people, how to structure deals. I thought I was postponing my dream. Turns out I was gathering material.

When I finally sat down to write—first in a pandemic-empty house in Tarrytown, then on a beach in Barbados—I discovered that everything I'd learned on the mat, in the boardroom, on the cushion, informed the stories I wanted to tell. The discipline from 35 years of Buddhist practice. The understanding of pressure from competitive Judo and wrestling. The insight into how people break and rebuild from navigating corporate crises and my own mental health struggles.

I write about characters who triumph over trauma—not because it makes for dramatic plots, but because I've lived it and witnessed it. Athletes who crumble under pressure they can't name. Families fracturing under the weight of unspoken wounds. People making impossible choices when there's no clear right answer. The tension between who we are and who we're trying to become.

My work spans formats because stories demand different shapes. Headcase started as a novel exploring sports psychology and became an award-winning TV pilot. Wreckers needs the scope of a limited series to capture 1840s Key West. Both is a 90-minute gut-punch that asks impossible questions about love and loss. Some stories are features, some are series, one's even an animated children's film about a snowflake with big dreams.

What connects them all: characters facing their demons. The cost of denial. The possibility—never guaranteed, never easy—of transformation.

I spent three decades in boardrooms and on balance sheets before I earned the right to write full-time. My business career wasn't a detour. It taught me that the highest stakes aren't financial—they're emotional. That pressure reveals character. That everyone, no matter how successful they look from the outside, is fighting battles nobody sees.

Now I split my time between New York and Barbados, writing screenplays and novels, developing projects for page and screen. The artist finally won the fight with the accountant. But I'm glad the accountant stuck around—turns out he knows a few things about structure, stakes, and showing up to do the work even when it's hard.

I'm in my 50s. I'm just getting started.

Whether you're here to explore the work, develop material, or connect with stories about the messy, complicated process of human transformation—welcome.

Read the stories. Watch the projects develop.

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