I think the short answer is, “we don’t.” As an MFA student here at CSU, I’m meant to contribute something to the MFA blog on the subject of writing. Which is what I start doing. Writing on writing. And then […]
Nearly a decade has passed since my first college writing teacher encouraged me to write beyond his class. In the interim between then and now I have filled up notebooks and read at open mics trying to explain my experience […]
Making the decision to move cross-country and start an MFA program in the midst of a pandemic called me to consider my relationship with uncertainty. For four years in Chicago, I cultivated a career as a performing artist with my […]
Welcome back to a most peculiar year. Here at CSU, the MFA program in Creative Writing has done their best to keep calm and carry on. Carry on is something I’ve been thinking of a lot lately.
Here’s the thing about writing while quarantining with two young children: there is no waiting for the muse to appear or inspiration to strike…
Were you to ask me—more years ago than I care to mention, back when I was a child playing my Atari—what I wanted to be when I grew up, my answer would have been, “a writer.”
…Excluding those who are working the front lines in health care, essential service employees, or parents who are taking on extra responsibilities, the majority of us who are sheltering-in-place, staying-at-home, and waiting out this pandemic, life is a little less busy…
I’m not sure how much stock to put in coincidences… but what are the odds that the one apartment tour I was at home for would bring people who were moving from not only the city, but the school I was soon heading toward?
I’m a creative nonfiction writer – which is to say that I write personal essays about family relationships and dynamics. Which is to say that, for me, writing involves a lot of hunching over my laptop…
I’d stayed home from school one day in second grade with a ravenous cold. As I attempted to sleep the day away, our home phone continued to ring (remember landlines? those were kinda dope) bringing me out of my slumber. I’d curse the thing—salesman!— they’d never quit calling.
