story
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Till We Have Faces – Discussion Questions
A friend and I are reading C.S. Lewis’ Till We Have Faces. This is my third trek through this masterpiece and, upon finishing it this morning, I decided to look up the HarperOne reading guide. The questions on this guide are fine, but seem a bit surface-level for such a mythical, mystical book. So, here Continue reading
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Good News for Writers: You’re Not that Unique
For about a year now, I’ve had a silly idea for a story. Finally, I worked up the courage to write it and share it with the world—or, at least, the small part of the world that represents my readership. For several weeks, nobody mentioned it. I nearly succumbed to my old pattern of thinking: Continue reading
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The Purest Literature
In Strong Poison by Dorothy L. Sayers, Lord Peter Whimsey defends a woman accused of murder. In an ironical move, Sayers makes this woman a detective novelist which, oddly, works to her favor as Whimsey claims that this counterintuitively renders her unlikely to have committed the crime of which she is accused: “She writes detective Continue reading
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Pruned: A Parable
In a garden in the desert there was a tree. She was beautiful, lush and healthy and growing with a swiftness unknown to most desert plants. She had been planted in good soil and her roots drank deeply from a nearby stream. One day, the Gardener was walking along the stream. As he went, he Continue reading
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The Sacrifice (Part 3)
Eight weeks into the semester, Mrs. Mendall entered to find her students clustered once more around the CM2029. Bethany was at the heart of the group. Pale and thinner than ever, she seemed to be shrinking even as the subject in the artificial womb was growing, now at a rate of a millimeter or Continue reading
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The Sacrifice (Part 2)
Mrs. Mendall filled another cup with lukewarm coffee and exhaled heavily. The hours on her feet were not as kind as they once had been, and she gratefully sank into a seat opposite a younger teacher. “How’s your first day going?” Mrs. Williams, the younger teacher, smiled shyly. The older teacher considered her Continue reading
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The Sacrifice (Part 1)
Dear Reader, I began writing this story when I was sixteen. I had something important to say, but could not think of any better way to say it than through story. Soon, I became discouraged with my own work (as I so often do) and put it away to develop on its own. A few Continue reading
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National Novel Writing Month 2020
It’s November, a month that inspires both terror and excitement in writers everywhere. Each November, I reminisce on my first attempt at National Novel Writing Month, in which I hand-wrote my first real draft of a novel. It told a sweet story of personal growth, literary love, and quirky community, and I fondly remember that Continue reading
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Bedtime Stories
As I grow older, it is often more difficult to fall asleep. I know I’m not alone in this. Age brings with it more anxieties and activities than the sheep we might otherwise be counting and, honestly, the only cure I’ve found (aside from melatonin) is to return to reading bedtime stories. As I recently Continue reading
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The Girl in the Red Dress
I am a pianist, but I have long suffered from stage fright. My junior undergraduate piano recital was yesterday and, true to my philosophy that no art is complete without a proper understanding of other art forms, I used literature such as Coleridge’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner to create program notes to give greater depth Continue reading
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Ray Bradbury: a reflection
Yesterday was the birthday of renouned American author, Ray Bradbury. Three more years and we can celebrate his 100th birthday. But even in 2017, Bradbury’s birthday is special to me because his stories provided the kick-in-the-pants I needed to take my writing seriously. Before entering high school, my family and I made a trip to Continue reading
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Dystopian Reality
Dystopian novels have been “in” for several years now. The Hunger Games and Divergent were the most popular reads of my high school days. Brave New World, 1984, and Anthem were on the AP reading lists. I continue to devour Ray Bradbury’s work. However, we forget the purpose of dystopian fiction, which is to warn and protect us from creating such futures in reality. Continue reading
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