“I love you,” you said.   I became short of breath.“What do you love?”I asked.    “I love you,”you said, smiling.   “What parts of me don’t you love?” I asked sheepishly.   “I love you,” you kept saying, passing your hand through my unkempt hair.   “You don’t love my unkempt hair,”I protested.   “I love ...

Recommit Yourself We are two weeks into November. I’m supposed to have over 25,000 words. My document has a pitiful 200. Most people would give up. The average word count to win would be 5,000 words or more daily. My best day is 2,000. The next step for me is to recommit to my story. ...

Sayrin dashed over the worn dirt paths faster than Hana expected. Hana followed, her arm aching by how hard Sayrin gripped it. Every few minutes another horn sounded, wailing through the trees. “These paths aren’t used very often,” huffed Sayrin, “I know them in and out. As long as we can keep them off our ...

November is a time for good food, embracing body hair, and the start of the holiday season. Starbucks comes out with their holiday drinks just in time for me to drown my writing woes in Caramel Brûlée. Nanowrimo is here. The time of year when I question if this was the correct career choice because ...

The Tattooist of Auschwitz, a novel written by Heather Morris, tells the humbling tale of Lale Sokolov, a Slovakian Jew, who was imprisoned in a concentration camp during World War II. The novel is an international bestseller, and after reading Lale Sokolov’s story, I feel compelled to honor this book. Based on Sokolov’s real life ...

The Chameleon says to her Mom, “I want to be many creatures and do many things, all at once.” Mom tells her she cannot be any more than one creature at a time, and cannot do more than one thing at a time. She has to pick one. But Chameleon can’t. Her mind travels fast ...

Hana first saw the Ghost on Tuesday, after the rain slowed. The weak morning sun broke through the silver and lilac streaks of clouds, turning the sky and earth soft oranges and vibrant yellows. The grass sparkled, the river flowing past nearly white as Hana pressed her nose against the chill glass and peered outside. ...

I love to be rightwhen it bringsclarity.I feel giddy with wisdom. I hate to be rightwhen it highlights signs of separation and magnifies heartache.Then I feel frozenwatching you shivering. Feeling right,I could do withoutsince it’s not a feeling but a state of mind,And what if I’m not?

Ivy Three grows up in a five-thousand-person space station called The Exodus. The ship orbits two hundred and fifty-four miles above planet Earth. It’s a safe space, providing a stable life, a place full of windows where electric trains run, crops sprout from well-organized fields, and workers walk in lines like ants in a colony. Ivy sleeps ...

I’m an animal person, so any story involving animals is bound to get at my emotions. Recently, I came across a Facebook post about “the loneliest whale,” which broke my heart. So, of course, I had to research this poor creature. According to the Facebook post, this particular whale calls out at a different frequency ...