September classes have been canceled until further notice. 

​While summer is traditionally my off-season from teaching, I rarely treat it as downtime creatively. Without the structure of weekly classes or rehearsals, I’m able to shift my focus toward the quieter—but no less meaningful—work that keeps me growing as a writer, educator, and creative professional.
 
One of my biggest summer projects was continuing to revise and develop my young adult mythological novel, Achlys. Rooted in Greek mythology and steeped in emotional stakes, it’s a story that has challenged me in all the best ways. With more time to reflect, research, and write, I’ve been able to dive deeper into my characters’ journey from the depths of Hades's Underworld to Dante’s Inferno and refine the worlds they live in. I’ve also made strides in querying agents and participating in critique groups—a process that requires patience, persistence, and a thick skin, but one that brings me closer to getting my stories into the right hands.
 
Outside of my own writing, I stayed actively involved in the SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators) community. I continue to serve as the co-Assistant Regional Advisor for the SCBWI SoCal chapter and the newsletter editor. You can find our summer edition below—something I’m incredibly proud of. It’s important to me to contribute to a community that has given me so much over the years. Volunteering keeps me connected to my writing community and reminds me how many of us are walking similar paths in the world of children’s literature.
 
Now, as summer winds down, my attention is turning back toward my students. My after-school acting classes resume in September, and I’m already bubbling with ideas. Time away always gives me perspective on what’s working and where I can grow as a teacher. I’m excited to bring fresh energy, new scripts, and renewed joy into the rehearsal hall this fall.
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Creative work doesn’t always look like a packed calendar or a live audience. Sometimes it’s quiet. Sometimes it’s slow. But this summer reminded me that steady progress is still progress—and that nurturing your passions behind the scenes is just as valuable as sharing them center stage.

​Summer has always been my time to breathe. I’ve always treated summer as my built-in intermission. A pause between seasons. A chance to rest, reset, and maybe sneak in a few trips to the pool before the acting class curtain rises again.

But this summer felt different.

​Maybe it was all the milestones happening at once.

• I watched my only daughter graduate from high school, take on a new job, and find herself in negotiations for the use of the car.
• Schedules confined us, and we only took a one-week summer family vacation to Tahoe (less one child), instead of our traditional family three-week cross-country trip.
• And we had an unexpected loss with the passing of our sweet Leo.

​And while the kids were off at their summer camps and the husband was traveling for work, I found myself in an unfamiliar state of stillness. It was quiet. A little too quiet. But in that space, I reflected. I grieved as chapters ended and sat with the silence, trying to let it teach me something.

With every ending chapter, another one begins, too, and I tried to find joy in the changes. We celebrated my youngest son’s 15th birthday and prepared for my daughter’s transition to college away from home. I shopped for smaller clothes, having lost 70 pounds on my weight loss journey.

And now, as fall approaches, I feel like I’ve recharged—not just physically, but creatively and emotionally, too. The season ahead is full of plans: new classes, new stories, and new possibilities. But I’m carrying this quiet summer with me as a reminder that stepping offstage doesn’t mean stepping away from life.
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Sometimes the best stories unfold when the spotlight fades, and real life takes center stage.