Who is she?

Asha was once a child who collected stories at the family table like most children collect rocks. She collected those, too, among many other things, but the stories were the ones that took root in her soul and sprouted up shoots here and there until her eyes began to detect a narrative in the life of everyone around her.

Being only partially human, she uses these stories as a way to make sense of the world. Perhaps the characters she writes are just case studies of the people she so dearly wants to understand.

What she does understand is the ancient rite of gazing up at the sky and wondering, the feeling of the wind swirling along the shape of birds’ wings, and the lost art of quiet.

She searched for stories from Florida to California and back again, and now finds plenty in Central Vermont with her precocious young son (who has inherited the narrative gene). As an assistant teacher at a Waldorf school during the day, she delights in helping her two and three year old students tell stories of their own—though the topics are usually on potty training and taking turns with toys. At the end of her character arc, she will return to the woods, find a nice tree, and lay down to become one with the moss and soil.