Archive for the ‘Memoir’ Category

Figure 8

21Jul13

Anniversaries are like bookends on your life, ways to measure the passing of time, the progress or failure.  Last year at this time, my best friend/ fake mom died from cancer.  I was feverishly writing my memoir, suffering from moments of brilliance and valleys of self-doubt. My boyfriend was boozing it up behind my back.  […]


After dinner, Roan goes to the library.  I watch her fingers slip up and down the metal pay phone cord.  She whispers when she talks, but when she laughs it echoes against the dusty, stained glass windows.  It stings my ears, her happiness from the man on the other line.  I want her to get […]


Shawna with the long braids and rainbow beads stares at me.  She chews with her mouth open, bits of soggy bread and turkey rolling between her teeth.  “So, get lost?” Her eyes narrow, sharp slits of brown locked on my face. I stab at my turkey, slip powdered mash potatoes around in a circle.  I […]


“What’s your crime?” Roan asks.  She’s my new roommate at Hannah’s place and she’s all nosy. She shoves a skinny finger into her mouth, her tiny teeth gripping the tops of her crimson painted fingernails. She violently tears the paper thin nail, spitting a red and ragged half-moon on the floor.  “Being born,” I say […]


My father is fond of saying that there is the business of life and the passion life: not everyone is good at both of them.  Lately, I have been trying to market my memoir.  I’ve been scouring through essays and blogs that offer advice and tips and tricks for interesting agents.  No matter how much […]


The truth is, when I started this blog I had no idea what I was doing.  I was trying to build an online presence, whatever that was.  At first, I trolled other blogs to see what they were doing.  I tried following people to get more followers. But the more people I followed, the less […]


The screaming jolts Bryan out of his coma.  “What the fuck is going on?” He screams. “Please. Please. Let me out,” I beg, but Mr. Trucker rolls his eyes. I hear the twisted metal sound again and the sharp squeal of brakes trying to stop tons of steel.  I fly forward in the seat and […]