I’m struggling with a writing issue. I’m deep into a revision of my verse novel. I wrote the initial draft quickly during NANOWRIMO – it was no where near 50K words, but folks, it’s poetry. As I dig through this first really big revision, I’m starting to see...
I’m 45. Soon to be 46. When the Central Park jogger case happened, I was a junior in high school. I’m also white. And yes, that’s important to know. Here’s what I remembered: Wilding – scary thing happening with young men in Central Park. Young black men were accused....
I’m excited to announce the publication of an anthology – Upon Waking: 58 Voices from the Shadow of Abuse. One of those voices, is mine. Two of my poems are included – “The Child Knows No” and “In Which I Sue for Memory and Associated Damages.” I’m honored and proud...
I told my therapist last week, as we admired the pretty picture of Defining on my phone, writing it was a little bit like vomiting up word nails. Now, as I read it, I understand those words spell out some bad shit. Sad shit. Some trauma. But do you know what I see?...
I’m a huge fan of form poetry. Sestinas. Pantoums. Haiku. But lately, it’s been acrostic – all day, all the time. Acrostics are fascinating. Basically, the first letter of each line spells out a name, a word, a message. We usually encounter acrostics when we’re in...
This one’s not about writing. Not exactly anyway. But it is about me. And a lesson I learned a long time ago. I was sixteen and in Pre-Calc. My junior year of high school. Math was never my best subject and I hated it. It was like a strange language and I did whatever...
