My name is Stacy, but that is not who I am.
I choose to define myself by that which makes me happiest in life.
I am fortunate to count two sisters of other mothers as my friends.
There is a cedar cabin on a bayou that I call Dream Tree Bayou.
I write to make sense of nonsense like numbers and suffering.
I write about Louisiana because there is no other place that I could be.
I write to challenge oblivion.
Though time is a thief, he cannot rob us of who we are.