Author Archives

In Olive Branches Don’t Grow On Trees, Frank’s relentless search for a missing frying pan acts as an extended metaphor for Silvia’s relentless search for a perfect place.  I am a big fan of this particular literary device, which is a metaphor

All people– writers and non-writers– are storytellers.  We tell ourselves stories each and every day and the stories that we tell ourselves shape our perceptions of the world in which we live.  I’ve become keenly aware of the

I’m honored to say that Olive Branches Don’t Grow On Trees is on Suspense Magazine’s prestigious Best of 2012 List!

A few years ago, I saw the scroll from the famous Jack Kerouac book On The Road.  This scroll is 30 feet long unrolled!  Seeing it in person made me imagine Kerouac writing his novel, without looking back even once.  I am currently working on my

Reader response theory is a literary theory that focuses on the reader and his experience of the literary work, in contrast to other schools of thought that focus primarily on the content and form of the work.   I am a big proponent of this

As an unknown writer, I am a prime target for the many harsh critics out there in the world. They mostly take the form of negative, unhelpful reviews on Amazon or Goodreads.  I often disappoint myself by getting caught up in this negativity.  By

In light of the recent, senseless tragedy in Connecticut, I’ve been asking myself the same question many people are asking themselves- What can I do?  I feel powerless. Vacillating between feeling angry at the country’s gun laws and sad

Drawing on her own background, Grace Mattioli has created a warring but loveable Italian-American family, who just can’t seem to get along. While they all have their individual problems, youngest daughter, Silvia Greco, hopes that she can bring

Silvia moves through the world like a Peanut’s character dancing.  Frank moves from one side of the kitchen to the other like he is keeping beat to a Polka song.  Cosmo moves with a bounce in his step, his head bopping back and forth like a

The summer of my 5th year, my family and I would take my mom’s big gold Cadillac and head down the shore.  We would all huddle under the big yellow and green striped umbrella for hours while salty wet breezes cooled our overheated inland bodies.