The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was
Spawning snow and pink roses against it
Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:
World is suddener than we fancy it.
Snow by Louis MacNeice
When I was 5 years old, I started writing one page stories–text on the front, illustration on the back. Eventually, I found that the things I wanted to say either had a hard time staying on one page or were difficult to render visually. I graduated to writing poems in 4th grade and leaving them in the mailbox for the mailman to critique. He was a nice gentleman but not exactly a literary scholar. I kept writing terrible poems that I thought were good and until I went to college where I learned how to write more pretentious poems that were still terrible. Fortunately, I had some wonderful people teach me the power of revision and now things are, all told, slightly less bad and (hopefully) less pretentious.
I’ve also tried my hand at fiction, creative nonfiction, and what might loosely be described as journalism.
This blog will serve as a dumping ground for all of the above. Nothing published here should be considered in its final form (is anything ever in it’s final form?) but I do, nevertheless, claim ownership of everything published here. It’s mine, don’t steal it.
Interested in personal details? I’m a 20 something librarian living in metro DC.
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