About Chloe

I’m a writer, assistive technology instructor, and proud parent to a very busy toddler. I’m also autistic, have ADHD, and I’m totally blind—I navigate the world with my guide dog Odette and my trusty screen reader.

I write contemporary fiction for young adults and new adults because I believe in telling stories that don’t shy away from the messy, complicated parts of being human. The kind of stories that acknowledge trauma, identity struggles, and impossible choices—without wrapping everything up in a neat bow.

When I’m not writing or working, you’ll find me experimenting with accessibility technology, planning the next book in the Faultlines series, or being outsmarted by my toddler.

Why I Write

I write the stories I needed when I was younger—and the ones I still need now.

For too long, disabled characters and trauma survivors in fiction have existed to teach abled people lessons or to disappear conveniently once the plot demands it. The miracle cure. The inspirational tragedy. The character whose PTSD evaporates when they finally learn to trust again, as if trauma operates on a redemption arc.

That’s not how any of this works.

I’m neurodivergent. I know what it’s like to navigate a world that wasn’t built for the way my brain works. I know what it’s like to be exhausted by simply existing in spaces that demand you perform “normal” while your nervous system is doing something else entirely. And I know how rare it is to see that reality reflected honestly in fiction—especially in stories for young people who are living it right now.

So I write characters who don’t exist to inspire anyone. Characters whose trauma doesn’t resolve neatly, whose disabilities aren’t plot devices, whose neurodivergence isn’t quirky seasoning. I write teens and young adults who are messy, complicated, and deeply human—because they deserve to see themselves as more than lessons or cautionary tales.

These are stories about survival, yes—but also about being loved without needing to be fixed. About chosen family, hard-won progress, and the small, stubborn ways we keep going even when “fine” feels impossible.

If you’ve ever felt like your story didn’t count because it wasn’t inspirational enough, or because your healing wasn’t linear, or because you’re still figuring it out—these books are for you.

You don’t have to be anyone’s hero. You just have to be you.