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Monthly Archives: July 2020

The One Time You’re Asked to Hurry Up in Honduras

Everyone who gets on is headed their own way—school, work, church, shopping, home—but for a brief moment, the barreling bus brings us all together.

Toll Road Home

There are several “worst parts” about driving across the country.

Matthew McConaughey’s Anti-bedtime Story

I got to sleep eventually.

4,400 Years Ago

As evening settles in, the flickering light of the fire illuminates the faces of family and friends gathered around, eager to hear another story from the family elders.

The Last One

Then, at some point in our spin last night, we caught our collective breath.

Holy Mola Mola

The scene, at first, is more akin to Jaws than Blue Planet—a silent silhouette from out of the hazy depths.

There Is No Safety

There Is No Safety

by | Jul 25, 2020 | 8 comments

The very hard thing I am learning right now—about race, and about myself—is that the rules I have been living by are not very good ones.

Bottle Episode

Bottle Episode

Yesterday, as I was beginning to write this, a fly filled the room.

Unpacking the Attic: Home in Eight Vignettes

Unpacking the Attic: Home in Eight Vignettes

Technically my third home, but my memories begin here.

The Voice in The Basement and Other Romances

The Voice in The Basement and Other Romances

The episodes are short stories, and, like short stories, they have the boldness to be small, specific, uncomfortable, or shamelessly tender.

Roads: Untaken, Taken

Roads: Untaken, Taken

But I will often retrace the roads and words I’ve taken and exhale, exultant.

SUM(July2013:July2020)

SUM(July2013:July2020)

When I got lonely, I would express that feeling by writing about geography, current events, and my personal life, outlining the ways those forces contributed to that loneliness.

The House on Elizabeth Lane

The House on Elizabeth Lane

Remember when Grandma, a model of self-restraint, shrieked so loudly you could hear her from across the lake?

Onward and Upward

Onward and Upward

The laughter flowed freely, as if the devastation of the last few days had dammed it up until it burst from us all at once.

The Coward’s Prayer

The Coward’s Prayer

Kindle patience within when the spark of impulse bursts upon me.

The Pleasant Company of Strangers

The Pleasant Company of Strangers

Like most people around the world, I have not attended a live performance in months.

To the Future Residents of Apartment 508

To the Future Residents of Apartment 508

Looking around the space, a constellation of memories appear.

Overheard in Fremont

Overheard in Fremont

The men greeted one group member by erupting “Herman the German!” when he walked in the door.

Salad Days

Salad Days

To be sure, I found several things that made me cringe. But I also found a lot of things to love.

When You Became a Toddler

When You Became a Toddler

You became a toddler during the pandemic.

Could be Louder, Could be Clearer

Could be Louder, Could be Clearer

For years I had found my most vivid and intimate joy through sound.

Jammed

Jammed

I did not need thyme. Or brown sugar. Or the lime.

Jesus and John Piper: The Radicalization of a Research Assistant

Jesus and John Piper: The Radicalization of a Research Assistant

For those of us who have never been on the blunt end of sexism (or racism, or ableism, etc.), things can look funny or tragic or intriguingly disgusting when they are actually evil.

Seven Years

Seven Years

Seven years later, I am now in Grand Rapids again, which is a kind of beautiful, full-circle moment.

Brainrot: Screenwriting as Literature

Brainrot: Screenwriting as Literature

For the novel to improve, for ink-and-paper storytelling to stay relevant, for literature to tell today’s stories to today’s audience, it must learn from the work of screenwriters

Nizhoni

Nizhoni

The house is, by nature, transient.

An Inheritance of Names, Power, and Fabric

An Inheritance of Names, Power, and Fabric

But now, in the morning as I dress, I am enthralled by all the stories I carry on me and within me.

Creation

Creation

And yet, even there, in that peaceful place, my brow furrowed with unrest. 

Seasonal Attention

Seasonal Attention

Under the Madison Street bridge, the tree that grows sideways suddenly popped flowers that smelled like corn tortillas.

Place-starved and Home-lonely

Place-starved and Home-lonely

I am from this place as much as I am from anywhere, and it’s this recognition that helps me know that I can feel this way again.

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