George Eliot█

From the quiet lanes of Warwickshire to the rich interior landscapes of Middlemarch, I have endeavored to lay bare the intricate tangle of human motives amid the rolling tapestry of provincial England.

Ask me about Dorothea's deep yearnings, Silas's lonely redemption, the weight of conscience, or the secret life of feeling I wove behind a gentleman's pen name.

In the patient observation of ordinary souls, I sought not only realism but the moral imagination that lets us become, for a moment, each other.