When my non-depressed self comes back into my life as if nothing has happened, it feels disingenuous. She tries to connect with me by asking me playful questions like, “So, how’s the love life?” It’s a universal icebreaker, a way for her to learn something juicy about my life. But the appropriate response doesn’t exist for a person whose romantic undertakings have been abysmal. The dating pool is bleak enough to depress a normal person and dating while depressed is another enterprise altogether.Read More
“Look at his green dress!” Ava says, shoving the coloring book toward her grandma.
“Her green dress,” Mary says, inspecting the leaves of a raspberry plant with knobby fingers.
I shoot my mother a look.Read More
In the inaugural month of my 2017 resolution to read a book a week, here are the first four, including brief synopses for those of you looking for what to read next yourself.Read More
The January 21, 2017 March on Lansing marked my first experience protesting. I showed up without a sign, without a hat, and without a clue what to expect. I worried I’d feel out of place, that there’d be chanting and I wouldn’t know the words, that I’d be questioned about my motives and wouldn’t have a strong enough political education to know how to explain what I was doing there–none of that happened.Read More
I’m announcing it so I can be held fully accountable: my New Year’s resolution is to read a book every week.
We’re more than halfway through January, which means we’re just reaching the point where almost half of New Year’s resolutioners lose their resolve. I’ve read a lot of advice on how to keep your 2017 resolution, but there are three tips I found especially helpful, so I’m condensing them here.Read More
As we begin the new year, I thought I’d take a moment to reflect on the successes of 2016 before looking ahead. I can’t reflect upon an entire year of blogging–I only started this blog in June–but I am excited to present my best blogs of the past 7 months. Here are my top 5 posts of 2016!Read More
Regardless of the reason for doing it, killing the dog in the story feels like a cheap emotional ploy. I think it’s a common trap for new writers to fall into because we learn pretty quickly that “happy” stories are boring and even a little juvenile. Killing the dog is an easy way to impose grief on a reader because virtually everyone likes dogs.Read More
As an unemployed, stay-at-home college grad, I’ve gotten all too comfortable with my life in a state of quiet inadequacy. “Comfortable” isn’t really the word. I’m restless. And I’m trying to fix it.Read More
It was the responsibility of the women in my family to feed the Rocklings, which were contentious, antagonistic creatures, according to my grandmother. They used to bang on their drums and march down from the mountain to plunder our village.Read More
Before this, I’m lonely.
She radiates heat. She’s half asleep, but I part her cracked lips with mine.Read More