Every story has a structure underneath it.
I was trained to find it.

Where the method behind The Narrative Foundry began, and why I build stories the way I was trained to build a diagnosis.

I was seven years old on a hot summer afternoon when I first watched someone read a body like a text. My grandmother, hands hard-hewn from Texas panhandle dirt, pressed her palms into the muzzle of our sick farm dog and diagnosed him with the quiet authority of someone who'd never needed a degree to understand a living thing. She didn't guess—she knew. She read using symptoms, history, and context until the shape of the problem became obvious. Spider venom. The solution: a medicinal concoction ground in the kitchen mortar and applied to "draw out" the poison so the resultant boil could be lanced, drained, and packed.

I found this wildly fascinating. I didn't yet understand what I was learning, but my soul knew what it was witnessing: a scatter of facts becoming, in the right hands, a narrative that speaks truth and offers a solution. Nothing was ever really unrelated—only unread. I wanted to learn how to read it too.

My family knew education was survival, and made sure we were well-read across the humanities and hard sciences alike. My grandparents, born in the 1920s, raised nine children in the Texas panhandle without a single high school diploma between them — and still canvassed every university textbook their grown children brought home, quizzing us grandkids on our studies regardless of age, grade, or holiday. They understood something viscerally: knowledge and critical thinking are the one inheritance no one can take from you, once you've mastered and refined them. I still hold every project to that same standard — nothing leaves my hands until it's been tested, questioned, and built to hold real weight.

My aunt was my first real teacher of the craft. She served her rural community in Okmulgee, Oklahoma, as an Internal Medicine physician, and — begrudgingly, at first — I spent every afternoon and every summer of high school in her office and on the hospital floor: taking vitals, completing charts, riding along on rural house calls, absorbing a relentless education in how a person's whole story, not just their symptoms, determines the diagnosis and the outcome. That instinct never left me. I still won't write a word for a client until I've found their whole story — not just the brief I was handed. She was the first person who showed me what it looks like to build something real with accumulated knowledge, field-tested skill, and judgment. Her sudden death, not long after I moved to Atlanta, was the detour that changed everything.

A life well lived doesn't move in a straight line. Mine went from chemical sales to IT to brand strategy and marketing, then down a long road through pre-med at Georgia State University — before I walked through the doors of medical school in January 2018. I graduated in January 2022 and chose research over residency: the less direct path, once again. None of it was wasted. Every detour taught me what the direct path couldn't have — how systems fail people when no one takes the time to explain them clearly, and how much it costs, in trust, in outcomes, in whether anyone actually listens, when a complicated story gets told badly, or not at all. That's the cost I've spent a career trying to make sure my clients never pay.

My Expertise

Thought Leadership Essays

White Papers

Ghostwriting

Signature Intellectual Projects

Personal Brand Narrative

The biopsychosocial model isn't just a clinical framework; it's a widely applicable worldview. The whole story, and how someone came to live it, is always the one worth telling.

10+ Years

Condensing complex human experiences into powerful stories that highlight essential truths.

M.D. Grad

A clinical focus on diagnosing your truth before crafting your narrative.

Evidence-Based

Every project is grounded in deep research, not guesswork.

Multidisciplinary

Essays. Books. Brand narrative. Whitepapers. All under one roof.