One Year After Declaring I’m a Writer
Fifty-two weeks. Three hundred sixty-five days. Hundreds of pages. What surprised me most is not what you think.
Rehearsing the Identities We Inherit
Why changing your life requires changing the story underneath it.
Holiday Cheer Is a Drug
Day 11 of 100—On dopamine crashes, January anxiety, and the madness hiding beneath the lights…
All of the Greats Had a Magnificent One
Day 3 of 100 Poems: What’s in a ‘stache!? Some might say it’s a cultural symbol. Others might say it’s just facial hair. What do you think?
What We Say When We Say Nothing at All
Day 2 of 100 Poems: Can you make poetry out of small talk?
I Set Out to Write a Poem a Day for 100 Days
I set out to write a poem a day for one hundred days. A hate poem that turns to love? What would you write?

