My father tells me I launched my writing career at seven. I was a playwright. I was also a producer, a director, and in charge of our backyard ticket sales. Other's might say my writing career began when I received my first paycheck (which I didn't want to cash because it didn't seem right to take money just for spilling a little ink on a piece of paper.) At college, I worked as a fledgling journalist for anyone brave enough to hire me. That's when my father issued his sage advice, "Longshoremen can write. Get a real job”.  I believed him. And obeyed him in all things but this. Nothing was going to get in between me and my Ticonderoga.

After graduation, I landed a gig writing scripts for a few television shows, finally cashed a paycheck, and escaped certain poverty. It wasn't long before I moved to the East Coast where I dabbled in publishing and finally discovered the wonderful world of advertising. I had written a campaign for Neutrogena on spec, sent it into Ogilvy, and was hired ten days later. Once in New York, I made the rounds of a few swanky agencies (one moves on to move up in this industry) before being recruited by the New York Times. The Times had a small internal agency, and I became its sole copywriter. I was brought in to help usher them into the digital age and even wrote those cool taglines on the cover. Longshoremen be damned.​

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The glamor of the city was sweet, but I wanted a fast car and sea salt in my hair. (You can take the girl out of California, but you know how that story goes.) So, I moved to the shore in Connecticut, picked up a Boxster (green, tan interior), and billed myself as the 'anti-agency'. Today, I continue to help agencies small and large position their brands and create the campaigns that generate the allegiance critical to their success.