Tattoo on arm with text: still being written

still writing.

my story

I'm mark sanford gross.

I'm a storyteller—though for most of my life, I've been more of an observer. An introvert who somehow ended up inviting strangers to sit down and share something true.

I run Write Up The Coast and a pop-up story booth called Step-In! I use simple prompts to spark conversations. These can happen anywhere—in the moment, roving around an event, on my morning hike.

I'm trying to create a safe and trusting space for people to explore and discover their own stories—the ones that may be hidden. A place for like-minded explorers to slow down and listen.

My grandmother—my bubbie—spoke almost no English. Growing up, I thought her Yiddish was English. But there was one word I understood, not from her voice, but from the way she moved. The way she held things. The way she looked at me.

Beshert.

Meant to be. That word has answered every one of my own questions—and gave me confidence in my thoughts and wonder when I couldn't answer them. In my darkest times and my brightest, everything I might get wrong, everything I feared or didn't know how to answer, I let sit at beshert. It's the thread underneath all of this.

I grew up afraid of decisions, voices reminding me of everything I might get wrong. At some point, I started listening to myself. Really listening. It changed everything.

I spent most of my life in big cities—crowded places where I kept my head down and my voice quiet. Now I live on the coast, surrounded by open space. Somewhere along the way, I realized that open space wasn't just outside me. It was something I could offer.

I noticed stories happening everywhere—at bus stops, in waiting rooms, on trails. Not because I was trying to eavesdrop. I just couldn't help noticing how much life was unfolding, quietly, without witness.

Write Up The Coast started from a simple question: what if I made room for those stories? Not just room for the telling—but room for strangers, acquaintances, anyone, to realize the connection with someone right next to them. In a time when we need more presence, more listening—we build community through storytelling.

If any of this resonates—if you have a story stirring, or you're curious what it's like to sit down and share one—you're welcome here.

What others say

"The role of public media is to connect our community more deeply together. Mark's work signals that connectivity and helps deepen it, bringing joy and inspiration to people, even in the most difficult of times."

— Melissa Bell, CEO, Chicago Public Media

"During COVID, Mark called out with an idea — a writing show to keep our community connected. Within minutes, we were on the air and KGUA Writers was born. Over the years, thousands of stories came from people near and far. The program proved what we both believed: that writing and radio together could keep a community's spirit alive."

— Peggy Berryhill, Founder & Executive Chairwoman, KGUA-FM Gualala

"Write Up The Coast's Step-In! project reminds us of what we risk losing — face-to-face voice, shared reflection, and the power of simple human connection. At its heart, Mark Sanford Gross's work is about building community — one story, one conversation at a time."

— Independent Coast Observer, October 2025

"Mark facilitates Peer Recovery Support Groups each week. For nearly two years, his Friday Writers Workshop has inspired some of the most poignant, beautiful, and raw expressions I've ever witnessed. His prompts and kindness create a safe space — turning darkness into light, and pain into growth."

— Jake Petrykowski, Certified Peer Recovery Support Specialist, Mendonoma Health Alliance

"Mark is a unique and uncommon personality that brings out the best in people. His way of prompting creativity and engaging with our guests has been a wonderful addition to our retreats. He creates such a wonderful space for writers and creative folks to engage."

— Cab and Deanna Boettcher, Owners, Mar Vista Farm and Cottages

"So much of my life drifts across screens now, words appearing but rarely spoken, voices lost in the static. Yet each time I hear a story spoken aloud, something shifts. The weight eases. A thread appears. I remember I am not alone. And that is why I gather with others — because our voices, shared, carry hope, carry meaning, carry us back to one another."

— Write Now! participant
Door with symbol and text: my story found me — maybe your story just found you

i found my story.