L. M. Rapp

My short stories rise from a mysterious, quiet inner place. Like images passing from a train window, they disappear quickly but leave an impression behind.

Though food cannot carry a novel on its own, it can slip in as a secondary character, enriching the story with unexpected flavors and textures.

Writing without constraints means facing the vertigo of the blank page. Yet a word, a theme, a rule can spark the flame. When imagination surrenders to chance and detours, the story is born — unexpected yet coherent.