As a Writer, I draw from an authentic place, infusing my plays, scripts, and articles with nuance and specificity that resonate deeply with audiences. My work breathes life into words, creating vivid experiences for readers and actors alike. With a unique perspective and empathy for fringe communities, my mission is to offer fresh viewpoints that expand empathy and spark curiosity in readers.
In my role as a Copywriter, I collaborate with brands and organizations to craft compelling copy that entices and engages. I excel in creating casual yet impactful social and promotional content that captivates consumers and stimulates their interest in the brand. Below, you will find examples of my copywriting and writing samples that showcase my ability to create dynamic and engaging content.
Promotional Copy for Summer Song Festival 2024
As a copywriter for the Summer Song Festival promo, I collaborated with the creator to craft natural, engaging copy that highlighted key details for submissions, contact information, deadlines, and excitement. My approach encouraged casual conversation while conveying essential information effectively. Watch the video below to see the copy in action.
Published Article Sample
Fighting Food Insecurity: How Local Parishes Nourish the Community
Domestic violence survivors, cancer-fighting residents, caregivers, veterans, people receiving disability benefits, and families juggling multiple jobs are only some of our local neighbors fighting food insecurity. On Nov. 1, 2025, Supplemental Nutrition
Assistance Program (SNAP) benefit cuts left many people nationwide, including here in Oakland, scrambling to put food on the table. Looking for a way to help, I learned about two local food pantries whose dedicated efforts are helping to keep our
neighbors fed.
Assistance Program (SNAP) benefit cuts left many people nationwide, including here in Oakland, scrambling to put food on the table. Looking for a way to help, I learned about two local food pantries whose dedicated efforts are helping to keep our
neighbors fed.
Bart’s Food Pantry at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Church in Oakland has a dedicated team of volunteers who battle food insecurity at food pantries in need in East Orange and Newark. Named after Bart Codd, a Staten Island, NY transplant whose unwavering dedication to helping those in need, Bart’s has supported hunger-relief efforts in East
Orange and Newark for nearly 60 years. Codd passed on Easter in 2006. Since becoming Pastor in 2023, Rev. Dr. Robert "Bob" McLaughlin has carried Codd’s legacy forward, with Dawn Torpey and the Stewardship Council leading the ministry's daily efforts.
Orange and Newark for nearly 60 years. Codd passed on Easter in 2006. Since becoming Pastor in 2023, Rev. Dr. Robert "Bob" McLaughlin has carried Codd’s legacy forward, with Dawn Torpey and the Stewardship Council leading the ministry's daily efforts.
Through food donations, dining events like “Thanksgiving Dinner” and “Christmas Gift” programs, Father Bob expressed his responsibility as a pastor to help those in need. “It has come to our attention that there are some families living in Oakland that are living with food insecurity.” Bart’s Food Pantry is working locally with Ponds Food Pantry at Ponds Reformed Church, also in Oakland, to help our neighbors in Oakland and beyond stay fed. McLaughlin believes working collaboratively is the most beneficial way to support those locally.
Read full article here.
Essay Sample
Scroll, Clack, Whoosh: Climbing the Job Wall
Scroll, clack, whoosh, scroll, clack, whoosh, scroll, clack, whoosh. The cacophony of clacking as I write, edit, and personalize resumes, cover letters, and follow-ups. Scaling the insurmountable wall known as the job hunt in 2025 has devolved into a Sisyphean hellscape. For the past two-and-a-half years, yes, you read that correctly, this has been my life. I was a confident and self-assured person. Now, I question my worth, my identity, and my goals – will I ever receive an offer? If I do, how has the journey changed me?
My journey didn’t start in such a state of hopelessness. It has eroded over time. As a creative, I thrived at innovating new strategies to achieving a goal. I found it to be exhilarating. I look up at the wall, unable to see the top or ways around it, I develop a strategy to conquer it. DEI was at the beginning of its downward trajectory when I was laid off in April of 23’. For months after, I had a jam-packed schedule full of meetings with HR Reps, hiring managers, and former coworkers. All of them saying the same thing – You’ve done great work, you’re a viable candidate, we’d love to have you! These words of affirmation fueled me – even though I knew this. However, nothing resulted in an offer. I didn’t give up. I kept going. I joined networking groups of high-level and connected corporate creatives. At first, I was excited! Creating new contacts, building relationships, inspiring and reassuring one another on this journey. I started to feel seen and encouraged that this group would somehow help me secure work somewhere. On many occasions, I met folks who took my resume and passed it along to a former colleague or a close connect to an open role. I even secured some first call interviews, only to be disappointed by more of the same sentiment. Again, I wasn’t deterred or discouraged but I did notice something. There were very few people who looked like me in these groups, meetings, and company interviews. Hairline fractures began to form in my armor of confidence. It was the first sign where I felt I was not wanted.
LinkedIn became my base platform seeking openings, encouragement, and connection. I curated punchy posts that galvanized like-minded jobseekers, creative corporate leaders, and hiring managers. I expressed my frustrations by liking disgruntled posts about the job hunt, unresponsive HR reps, and lengthy interview processes. The hits of dopamine that
coursed through my veins as I found community and the thrill of the hunt drew me back to that platform daily. Days turn into years as doomscrolling LinkedIn and other job boards scanning posts of celebration and “advice” translated into feelings of how I am not working hard enough to reach my goal. I become disenchanted with the pep talks from friends and
family. “Everyone is going through this.” I’m told repeatedly. I no longer found comfort in the realization that I am not alone on this ascent to securing a job, I am frustrated and disheartened. Yet, I press on determined to reach the apex in securing work in the entertainment space. Scroll, clack, whoosh, scroll, clack, whoosh, scroll, clack, whoosh.
News breaks as wave after wave of layoffs enter my orbit. Disney, Netflix, Amazon, Paramount dump tens of thousands of creatives into my feed causing the jobseeker-market to become more saturated. Posts stating ‘I’m leaving the entertainment industry’ become the norm as I continue to scour job boards, have virtual meetings, and coffee meetups. I’m oddly invigorated by this news. “As more creatives leave, there will be more room for me” I think. The wall has begun to shift my empathy for others; I become more selfish and myopic in my view. Even though I am unable to see the top of the wall, I continue to climb in protest. Watching others mid-journey decided to pivot, I speak with other jobseekers who have left the entertainment industry for other sectors – education, tech, and healthcare, to name a few. The small flame within me burns brighter until I speak with my mentor, whose career I’d love to emulate. He informs me that corporations and agencies are not backfilling vacant roles. Instead, they will redistribute work across the remaining employees. This hits
me like a ton of bricks. Yet, I am undeterred. “I will reach my goal.” I tell myself. I believe I am the outlier, the “special” case. Hardheaded as I am, passionate as I am, focused as I am in my triumph over this job wall, I proceed. I expand my search to different sectors, only finding it more challenging to stay encouraged. Scroll, clack, whoosh, scroll, clack, whoosh, scroll, clack, whoosh. The metaphorical door into the corporate entertainment has shut with a resounding - BOOM.
me like a ton of bricks. Yet, I am undeterred. “I will reach my goal.” I tell myself. I believe I am the outlier, the “special” case. Hardheaded as I am, passionate as I am, focused as I am in my triumph over this job wall, I proceed. I expand my search to different sectors, only finding it more challenging to stay encouraged. Scroll, clack, whoosh, scroll, clack, whoosh, scroll, clack, whoosh. The metaphorical door into the corporate entertainment has shut with a resounding - BOOM.
Short Stories
Nelly’s
Valeria checks her Cartier watch for the fourth time in twenty minutes. "He's ten minutes late," her mind whispers anxiously. The faint scents of overcooked cherry pie, chicken noodle soup peppered with dill, and an increasingly pungent Fabuloso commandeer her nostrils.
A gray-haired waitress around Valeria's age walks over — mop in tow. "Hey suge, you sure you don't want anything while you wait?" "No, thank you…Pam. I'm waiting for my son." "Ok," Pam retorts. Valeria is filled with anxiety from Pam's sympathetic gaze. Her mind races as a cacophony of worries erupts. "Will he not show?" "It's been seven years." "Did I get the time right?" "Will he forgive me?" "I need to say sorry."
Valeria checks her watch again. She shakes her wrist and draws her arm close to her ear, listening for the faint "tick." She sucks her teeth and pulls out her phone from her bag. No missed calls and no text messages. She also realizes her watch is correct. "He's twenty minutes late," her mind echoes.
She bites her tongue as she rereads the last lines of their exchange: My life is fuller, brighter, and has more meaning with you in it. I'm sorry. Can we meet? She reads his response: Ok. Nelly's – Friday, 5:30.
The diner fills with an autumnal golden hue from the setting sun. Valeria sees her reflection in the napkin holder, and seven empty stubborn years of stress fill her cheeks, line her eyes, and sag her neck. Tears pool. She begins to think… "He won't show. I've lost him." As a tear traces her face, a hand warms her shoulder. She turns.
"Hi, Mom."
DECISIONS
Helen wipes her tears as she slowly closes the bathroom door leaving it open a crack. As she focuses on her parents’ closed door, the fear slowly creeps up through her toes and settles in her stomach. Frogs clog her throat and strangle her breath. The ticking of the loud clock from the living room reverberates through the hollow hall. As she steps closer the creaking of the floor taunts her of the impending conversation she must have with her parents.
She inhales – the faint smell of bibimbap gently caress the tendrils of her nose hairs. She feels her armpits pool and the unbelievable pressure to shit and vomit. She used to love the smell of her mothers’ favorite cooked dish but now the odor of Gochujang nauseates her.
As she steps closer, she hears her father’s loud snores. The bass in his exhales reverberate through the door and taps through her chest. A tear escapes her eye. As she walks by the hallway mirror the warm mustard light from the bathroom frames her adolescent face – her budding breasts under her ‘Sailor moon’ t- shirt and ‘hello kitty’ bottoms. She touches her belly and stares into what could possibly be her future. Helen lifts her hand holding a ‘positive’ pregnancy test.
NEVER TOO LATE
“Ding! Ding!” the trolley broke the tension between Nasir and I. “Love you, Taye.” He whispered hugging me. Tears welled up watching Nasir head towards the trolley. The “love you” lingered in the August night. He walked towards the trolley as my “love you” caught in my throat.
Nasir, eyeing me through the large back window, sat. It pulls off. “RUN!” my mind yelled. Before I realized, I was chasing the trolley as it accelerated. My tears wicking down my face - frantically waving as I huff and puff. He was gone.
I stop, cough up a “love you, too” into the night. My best friend, the other gay I knew, was gone. Walking home, I reminisced on that summer, the lengthy phone calls, sharing whispers of high school crushes, and watching black gay TV together- a memory. Honking pulled me out of my trance. “Move from da road!” yelled a Jamaican.
I realized Nasir, the flamboyant baddie, inspired me to stand in my truth. He taught me to fine-tune my gaydar, be fashionable, and use words to accentuate my point. He prepared me for college in ways my family couldn’t. For THE student-athlete to stand out – loud and proud. I never told Nasir he was my hero and how much I loved him.
I’ll never squander the opportunity again. I Love you, Nasir Johnson! You taught me to be authentically Taye Goodman.
I put the pen down, close the letter, and address it to the Naval Base San Diego.
Promotional Blurb
This 2004 cult classic is reborn –"Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind: The Musical!" Brace yourselves for an electrifying theatrical experience, directed by Tony Award winner for ‘Best Direction of a Musical’ – Michael Arden. Music and lyrics crafted by the masterminds behind the Tony Award-winning musical score of "Shrek the Musical" – Jeanine Tesori and David Lindsay- Abaire.
Tony Award-winning Best Actor in a musical for "Tootsie," Santino Fontana and Academy Award winner Ariana DeBose, who absolutely “did the thing” in Stephen Spielberg's "West Side Story," play Joel and Clementine. Following the end of their relationship, Clementine opts into a new procedure that erases her memories of Joel. Gut-wrenched by the news, Joel decides to follow suit.
Joel surrenders his cherished memories of Clementine to the procedure. As he watches love- defining moments disappear before his eyes, Joel discovers that even the stormiest of relationships harbor hidden gems.
30 Second Radio Spot
Narrator: Delve deeper into the tapestry of the mind in this cult classic sci-fi comedy turned musical - Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind: The Musical! Follow the unforgettable journey of Joel navigating heartbreak and rediscovering the essence of love. Directed by Michael Arden and starring Santino Fontana and Ariana DeBose. Uncover the hidden corners where love can hide! Buy tickets today for Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind: The Musical!
15 Second TV “Teaser”
[Opening shot: pan on barren lakefront at winter]
[Audio: wind howling interrupted by distant footsteps in snow.]
[Audio: wind howling interrupted by distant footsteps in snow.]
Announcer (Mysterious Voice): From the creators who brought you ‘Shrek the musical’ and ‘Parade’ comes a new adaptation on a cult classic.
[Visual: slowly pan onto key art of Joel starring lovingly at Clementine while she is deadpan facing forward as they lay on ice.]
Announcer: A new musical extravaganza that express the importance of embracing the entirety of our experiences, the good, the bad, the joyous, and the painful.
[graphic animation: the ice cracks and forms text ‘Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind: The Musical!’]
Announcer: Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind: The Musical. Grab your tickets today. [visual: Clementine slowly fades leaving Joel staring at text]
[Audio: Wind howls increases as we are steeped in loneliness.]
[visual: Joel slowly fades leaving only text]
[Audio: Wind howls increases as we are steeped in loneliness.]
[visual: Joel slowly fades leaving only text]
[Audio: Wind howl continues then slowly quiets.]
[Graphic animation: text fades leaving a white screen.]
[spot ends].
Script Sample
ACT 1. SCENE ONE.
RASHI opens the door to her bedroom. Mascara dried down her face, dressed in black slacks, a navy blouse, and a black cardigan. The room looks straight out of an Ikea catalogue. Decorated to a thirteen year old girl’s taste. We can clearly tell that RASHI loves the color orange but the bright sunny room seems dark - lifeless.
RASHI walks in emotionless. She closes her door and sits at the edge of her bed. She grabs her pillow, curls up on the bed holding her pillow tight.
She looks over at her drawer next to her bed. She opens it and pulls out tons of sheets of paper and spreads them all over her bed. She takes one and begins to read. She begins to cry.
RASHI
I miss you so much daddy.
(A KNOCK at her door. MALIK enters.)
MALIK
Hey baby girl.
RASHI
Hi baba.
MALIK
I know today was a lot. Can I sit with you?
RASHI
Sure.
MALIK takes a breath to speak but stops himself. MALIK walks over and sits next to RASHI on her bed. He pulls her close and notices whats in her hands.
MALIK
Is that one of daddy’s letters?
RASHI
Mmhmm.
MALIK picks up another one of the letters off of RASHI’s bed.
MALIK
I love this one. It’s after we brought your home from the hospital.
SILENCE.
MALIK
August 8th, 2021. Dear Rashida Angela Bassett Keene...
MALIK
(To RASHI)
Your daddy had a sense of humor....
MALIK
(Continues to read)
We finally made it. You’re home. Our beautiful baby girl we’ve been waiting for. Your baba thanks Allah and I thank the universe. Having a baby during the pandemic wasn’t easy - tons of hurdles, obstacles, regulatory tape, and precautionary measures to overcome but we were determined to have you. I made a promise to myself to write a letter to you every month and give them to you every birthday. These letters are to remind you of all the accomplishments and all of the obstacles you’ve overcome in the past year. We are so in love with you and can’t wait to watch your learn and grow. Love Always, Daddy.
(MALIK and RASHI wipe away tears.)
RASHI
Baba, what causes heart attacks?
MALIK
I’m still trying to figure that out myself, baby girl. I’m still trying to figure that out.
