Flawed people, flawless God.Author, Speaker, Blogger
I’m searching for my place in this messy world-craving, saying, and doing things I regret.
I fight for relationships, and sometimes I give up too soon.
I hold grudges. I harbor issues.
And, always, I’m trying to measure up.
Do you walk in my world?
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“Ann Lee Miller develops multi-layered relationships between the characters with the painful honesty of complex human emotion and depravity, and her vivid descriptions engage me in a way not many people can.”Sandi Greene
Wisdom & stories wrung from an imperfect life…
Jim trudged up the worn carpet steps of Fern’s, the Ashland, Ohio, boarding house where he lived while attending seminary. The steps creaked as he shrugged off his coat and the icy one a.m. air that clung to it. Downstairs, housemate Tom McConahay, his partner in...
Good-bye Girl, was the name of the movie Jim and I watched on our first date—a moniker I could have worn myself. I’d strung the elastic string of a candy necklace with crushes, adding and subtracting infatuations on a weekly basis. My affections were sweet, shallow,...
I marched, oblivious, through my first date with Jim as though it were no big deal—gritting my Florida-grown teeth against the frigid February First Ohio night. My fists jammed into the pockets of my coat. I trudged the ribbon of shoveled cement, snow glittering at...
I became a writer the year I discovered Sister Sheila had hair. I was in fifth grade at St. Hugh’s Catholic School in Miami, knee deep in nouns and verbs, when Sister Sheila walked through the door in a new habit that showed two inches of mouse brown hair threaded with silver.
Thanks to Sister’s jump-start, I went on to earn a BA in creative writing from Ashland University and an MA in creative writing from Wilkes University. Currently, I’m completing a Master’s in Fine Arts (the equivalent of a PhD in other disciplines) in creative writing at Wilkes University. With five novels and a messy stack of magazine, newspaper, and blog articles, I’m still infatuated with the written word.
My newest crush is embarrassingly myopic–blogging memoir every Friday. And sometimes it’s just plain embarrassing