I have been thinking a lot lately about the concept of personal happiness. Why can’t people just be happy? I’m not talking about being ignorant to the injustices in the world, or anything. I’m talking about actual opinions. I love Starbucks, for example. I love the last four months of the year because the seasonal ...

I have spent a lot of time in recent weeks thinking about how one moment can affect the course of a story. The person the protagonist smiled at on page two can end up being the love of their life. This happens, in reality, all of the time. My own best friend and I met ...

Read Parts 1-7 My forehead prickles as a hand lifts the hair away from my face and my eyelids flicker open. Madison’s rosebud lips bloom into a grin, the corners of her eyes crinkling in the morning light. A lock of red curls falls over her face as she kisses my nose.   “Good morning, ...

I recently read the memoir, Same Kind of Different as Me (2006) by and Ron Hall and Denver Moore. This book illustrates the different life stories of the two men and how they became friends, even family, and how they were brought together by Ron’s wife, Deborah. The first part of the book talks about each ...

a twist in your gut marks this violent path a heartbeat taken a breath driven out his smile shadows your memories and the blood that soiled his face when he died father’s ghost taunts you in the night where peace can find no purchase in your dreams thirstful vengeance marks your violent path bodies in ...

Kelgen sat with his legs crossed on the edge of the dead forest where he found Jethus. Branches like twisted arms wrestled in a constant breeze sweeping from the east. Under his breath, he recited a prayer to the Four Gods, the words tapping into a language that could only be understood when embracing magic. ...

Kelgen stood amidst a dying forest, barren in the coming autumn, and looked up. Jethus hung by his neck from the branch of a large oak. The rope that strangled his throat had been pinned down by a stake at one end then tossed over the branch, where he was then forced from this life ...

I have written articles about how I have a lot of anxiety about the amount of time it takes me to physically type words. I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned that sometimes I get so frustrated I don’t even bother writing that day. I’ve figured a way around that. There are these magical things called writing ...

Fear rocks my core And I look to you for stability I want to link my pinky with yours And breathe slowly   Your soft voice is All I have now So, I listen with care Careful not to tune out   Fear rocks my core Your meticulous ways Cradle my fear Even though you ...