Dear Lyle Lovett, Please be my Pen Pal
I have no advanced skill in any area of life that lends me to glory or even mild recognition. You would be writing to a very ordinary woman of meager talent.
Family Portraits
In the evening we venture out into the city that she has called “the armpit of California” and find a place to procure some burritos. As we eat, Aunt Ellen tells me about her world travels.
What We Talk About When We Talk About The Fire Alarm
We had been bearing all of these trials patiently enough, however, until the day the toilet started belching. I want you to imagine what that must sound like, and after you have, I want you to imagine me hearing those sounds alone in the apartment—which coincidentally, did not contain a plunger.
Plain
I was not just leaving behind a friend, but someone who loves the parts of me I don’t. Sometimes adulthood just feels like a dawn of frequent partings.
Cannibal of GR
The story goes, that a girl was traveling abroad… either that or she was in Grand Rapids… or Boston or Austin or Mauston. Which is in Wisconsin… anyways, minor details…
Left Behind in Grand Rapids
I forgot that figuring out life does not always mean getting a job or going to grad school.
More Than a Fish Needs a Bicycle
It all turned out fine. We weren’t abducted or murdered in our beds. Our host, whom we met later that evening, turned out to be sweet and ostensibly normal.
A Reevaluation: On the Disabilities Panel at FFW 2016
During a Friday morning panel at the 2016 Festival of Faith and Writing in Grand Rapids, Michigan, writer Jessica Mesman Griffith said something that would later come to trouble me.
The Chemistry of a Car Crash
In the movies, there is usually a lone car horn blaring, the hiss of steam from a broken radiator, dramatic music swelling. None of that today. Just NPR on my car radio, and when I got out, an almost reverential silence.
Stars, Etc.
But there are some things I hold dear that you just can’t get in the greatest city in the world. And that’s where the stars come in.
