Catalog of Lies Essay “But if you see it with your own eyes, then of course it’s real,” you protested as a teenager. This was before home computers, before Photoshop, before “fake news” and “deepfakes.” This was back when you thought facts were unmalleable. Now, you wonder what happens when you [read more]
Grist Essay Knowing your audience is a very tall order. If this were an article about craft, I’d tell you what advice I abide by and what I ignore. However, this is about getting creatively unblocked. So, I’ll tell you: ignore all of it. There are benefits to not knowing [read more]
Across the Margin Essay "I was not supposed to be in Manhattan that day, but I was. I remember fighter jets patrolling the air space over New York City, the enormous, frightening, rumbling wake from the jets sounding like another building toppling nearby. I had the impulse to duck whenever [read more]
About Place Journal, Infinite Country Issue: Deepening Our Connection to Place, Culture, and One Another Essay "What if the change that’s needed is not global in scope, but personal: If I am Narcissus, how do I stop distracting my own conscience?"
Maryland Literary Review Fiction "I leave the store after a small, middle-aged domestic thrill: A good deal on bathroom rugs ($14.99 for two). As soon as I walk across the parking lot to my car, I know I’ll return them tomorrow. I don’t need them, but I need something."
Hippocampus Magazine "In 1995, I was living in a tent in the southern Appalachians trying to stay sober. I was twenty-eight years old, working at a camp for the summer, keeping notes of it all. During the day, I lifeguarded by a lake, teaching young girls how to save themselves [read more]
The Loch Raven Review "The wife drank beer every night while her husband played his saxophone. He stood in the kitchen near an uncurtained window, pale and thin in his underwear, and blew his sax toward the refrigerator as if he were playing to a packed crowd, the crowd of [read more]
Baltimore STYLE Magazine, online "Brenda talks to the mirror. “Why, yes. I’m a floral designer,” she says to an imaginary acquaintance. “I create arrangements for some of the most high profile weddings in town.” This is only partially true, but it makes her feel good to say it."
[PANK] blog, Beautiful Ashes series "When I come to the door, Aunt Gloria’s got her rosary in one hand, thumbing through it like she’s shelling beans. She says she saw it on the T.V. about Lawrence’s unit. “They been hit over there in that big sand pit,” she says. Then [read more]