Writing and traveling have been the intertwining threads that run through Prairie’s life. Born and raised in Los Angeles, she’s bounced around to many places—the exploration of new landscapes gives her more to write about when another sad love poem simply will not do. From her early work as a fourth grade haiku master (writing about sneaky burros who eat trash) to her later work as a technical writer and editor (writing about cat-covered mumus and orthotic shoes), she’s been honing her craft in one way or another.
She was undecided about the genre of writing she wanted to identify with for a long time. Some days she was a prose writer; other days she was a poet. Ever so briefly, she considered playwriting. And while she ultimately realized she didn’t have to choose just one, poetry is what she found herself scribbling most between customers at Barnes and Noble, on lunch breaks from the mumu writing, and between teaching English classes in Korea.
She currently teaches composition and interpersonal communication for a couple of colleges, and is enjoying her first experiences in the adjunct teaching world. She has been published in some great places, including Atticus Review, Painted Bride Quarterly, The Fiddlehead, Louisiana Literature, and in an anthology of short poems called Bigger Than They Appear published by Accents Publishing.