Matt Medendorp
Matt Medendorp ('14) graduated with a writing degree held together by duct tape and a few trips abroad. Currently he lives in Grand Rapids, works for Chaco, and claims to be producing a book of writing and photography from his time in Alaska.

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The Kava Diary

“Oh,” she adds, almost as an afterthought, “Your mouth will start to tingle and go numb after a few sips. Don’t panic, that’s just a harmless side effect.”

Earn Your Dawn

Comfort is a much needed salve, and respite for the parched and thirsty, but it’s good to remember we can also drown.

Portuguesa (To My Wife)

Fifty seconds of the wind whipping, a few tires screeching, nothing more, nothing more needed. Two days of slipping up the coast, of stinging sand, of white adobe buildings.

Escape

When the state of the world overwhelms me, I turn to tried and trusted remedies.

Writing Space

Perhaps the trick isn’t finding the perfect place, the perfect pen, the perfect aesthetic, the correct combination of elbow patches, pipe smoke, and whiskey. Perhaps the trick is simply to not have a trick.

Atlases Shrugged

The first time I read Travels With Charley I learned, with great delight, that Steinbeck freely admitted to being a terrible navigator.

Portraits from the Road I

It should be noted that the entirety of Shaw’s has gone sitcom quiet again. You get the feeling they’re waiting for their elder statesman to pass a type of judgment.

The Book Thief

Sometimes I imagine my own literary cross section. If years from now my brain were to be halved, splinters of Steinbeck and jumbled letters of Lewis would tumble out.

To Catch A Train

I took a train every morning in Budapest to a little café called Budapest Bagel: a bar and a bagel shop where I somehow received college credit to write short stories and read novels following a longstanding expatriate tradition.

Weep for the World

Weep for the world. Weep for the broken hearted, the half hearted, the heartless and the two hearted murderers. Weep for liberty. Weep for fraternity. Weep for the encyclopedia of troubled souls.

Elements of a Good Meal

Food, I think, is more than a culinary experience. Memories of good meals carry the same aromatic nostalgia of campfire smoke and fondly remembered perfume.

The Importance of Being Bored

I have an operating theory that boredom proceeds greatness almost as often as the phrase “hold my beer.” I think in a culture of convenience we never challenge ourselves to wait.