I had an article published on Pink Pangea about a trip I took to Iceland with my aunt and her friends, and how it changed my views on aging. Below is a short excerpt and a link to the full story. Enjoy!
Nancy shivered, pulled off her wet bathing suit and quickly put her jeans on over her still-damp skin. Her teeth chattered as she smiled. “This is how you stay young,” she said.
I was always scared of aging. The years I spent in college were tainted with death. Continue reading…
This past weekend, Alec Baldwin had an especially busy schedule in New York City.
On Saturday, he reprised his role as President Donald Trump and introduced viewers to his first stab at Bill O’Reilly on “Saturday Night Live,” a show that he has hosted a record 17 times. On Sunday, he appeared in conversation with Anna Sale as part of Brooklyn Academy of Music’s (BAM) and Greenlight Bookstore’s “Unbound” series, where he discussed the ups and downs of his life and his newly released book “Nevertheless: A Memoir.”
*Disclaimer: This essay is written in a vignette from the past*
I have tasted chocolate cake. I have tasted it sliding off my metal fork across my teeth onto my tongue and down my throat into my belly. Too sweet and chewy and dangerous. I have tasted it come back up my esophagus, into my mouth — bitter and slimy — and watched it fall into the toilet. I have tasted it off of my hand wiping my face. I have tasted it in my nose, blown out into a tissue. Continue reading
“How many women wrote beautiful novels and stories and poems and essays and plays and scripts and songs in spite of all the crap they endured. How many of them didn’t collapse in a heap of ‘I could have been better than this’ and instead went right ahead and became better than anyone would have predicted or allowed them to be. The unifying theme is resilience and faith. The unifying theme is being a warrior and a motherfucker. It is not fragility. It’s strength. It’s nerve. And ‘if your Nerve, deny you –,’ as Emily Dickinson wrote, ‘go above your Nerve.’ Writing is hard for every last one of us — straight white men included. Coal mining is harder. Do you think miners stand around all day talking about how hard it is to mine for coal? They do not. They simply dig.”
— Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things
When I first saw a picture of my dad when he was twelve, I was twelve, and I was terrified. Continue reading
I had another article published on Pink Pangea about some revelations I had during my trip to Scotland. Below is a short excerpt and a link to the full story. Enjoy!
I could not pull the covers off. I was frozen—nothing short of paralyzed in my tiny top bunk. My eyes were wide and I listened to the different accents filling the room: French, Italian, Japanese, Australian—but I didn’t dare to move. Continue reading…
This is a creative nonfiction essay I wrote my senior year of college. I’m not sure that now, not even a year later, that I would have written it the same. But I want to share it anyway.
My residency in Brooklyn is not something most people would describe as quiet. The traffic, noisy neighbors and occasional gunshot (seriously) do not always make for a peaceful night’s sleep either. But once I deem a place my home the noises become more bearable and almost comforting. Like the raucous, nocturnal cicadas that “chirp” all night long during the summer months in Missouri. Or the drunken street wandering and bottle throwing that begins at 2 a.m. and does not cease until class time during the school year in Vermont. Because I knew the cicadas mating and the bottles crashing onto the sidewalk; they had become a part of me after I’d created a life in the places they inhabited. But Scotland was not my home, it was a thumbtack on my map, and the sounds did not belong to me. Continue reading
Royal Botanic Garden– Edinburgh
I recently had a story published on Pink Pangea, a travel website that calls itself “a community for women who love to travel.” I have gone on a writing retreat in Costa Rica and attended a writing workshop in Brooklyn both hosted by Pink Pangea and thoroughly enjoyed them! Here is a short excerpt from my piece, the rest can be found at http://www.pinkpangea.com/.
The history of Brooklyn’s relationship with beer is complicated to say the least. Once one of the nation’s biggest suppliers of beer at the turn of the 20th century, after Prohibition ended very few breweries reopened their doors and from 1976 to 1996 there were exactly zero breweries in the borough. However, the past is the past, and since the blossoming of more and more breweries in the early 2000s, Brooklyn is once again a beer capital of the nation. Continue reading