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I have two grown children and a grandson. Chelsea, mother of four-year-old Wyatt, works with kids with autism and is married to Nick. My son, also a Nick, is a musician and a crazy-good mandolin player.


I have a Ph.D. in clinical psychology, have had a small private practice, and spent years as a college professor primarily teaching courses in counseling, psychotherapy, and personality theories. Aside from wanting to help people and feel like I somehow made a difference in the world, the biggest reason I wanted to become a psychologist was that I couldn't stop thinking about why we do what we do, what makes us tick. As it turns out, creative writing is after the same animal, only writers hardly ever (meaning never?) use statistics, can use all of their imagination and lots of descriptive language and long loopy sentences, or fragments – and interesting punctuation – and adverbs (but only occasionally).


Twenty or so years ago I began to get more interested in writing stories than doing the things that psychologists typically do: research, writing things nobody ever reads, building a thick CV. Finally, I grew weary trying to convince college administrators that my two big interests, literature and psychology, walked the same path. So, here I am, no longer teaching, now writing stories (that I hope people will read), and still trying to figure out what makes all of us human in a world of uncertainty.


I've included a few stories and some chapters from a couple of novels I hope to publish. I've also added some writing about ideas that have hung over my head for most of my adult life and has taken me into worlds I never would have imagined: physics, philosophy, and (some) math. I have presented some portion of these ideas to the American Psychological Association, The Society for the Study of Chaos Theory in Psychology and the Life Sciences (the longest name ever created for anything), and in Italy at the International Congress on Psychotherapy and Constructivism, as well as other conferences.


So, at this point in my life writing stories has replaced psychology, and walking has replaced running, golf has replaced baseball, joints are whispering to me but not yet shouting, and all in all I feel very lucky to have just received my Medicare card. (And thanks for your contribution to Social Security, much appreciated.)