Published on Intrinsick Magazine: The buttered body of Christ bathed in Sunday sunlight upon a polished silver platter. I dropped the crystal cover on the vestry floor and stifled a cough. Dust stuck to the spines of old hymnals, the abandoned robes of dead choir members, and a set of forgotten advent angels.
When Jesus walked into the nuthouse, I knew things would get interesting. Our savior wore a muddy gray t-shirt, a pair of ripped jeans my mother would never allow past her seasonal welcome mat, and a pair of really rad, orange converse.
Published on Reflex Press: Eyes snap open, stirred by a silent alarm. She peels stiff covers from her frigid skin, chilled by a thermostat set to 64 degrees, even in winter. Gray-socked feet hit the stained carpet, and she wiggles her toes. They’re painted a forbidden red.
Published on Medium: Long-term love is the non-judgmental caring and support that lingers until you are healed. After our short attention spans have moved on, long-term love steps up without a timeline for grief and says, “I am here for you until you don’t need my help anymore.”
There’s no way around this: you’re a bad writer, but that’s okay because I’m a bad writer too. A bad writer is not the same as an untalented writer. Below are five tips I gave a friend of mine the other night at 2 am (it’s always 2 am).
Published on Where Writers Win: A quick checklist for writers looking to live dangerously and forgo an editor. Is your manuscript ready?
Published on APF: I wrote a member story for the APF about my experience living with HCP; I hope my story can show others with chronic illness they are not alone.
Dark Eden is an umbral spin on the Christian creation story. Prideful men stole a spaceship from Earth and crashed into the luminescent treetops of a strange, nocturnal world.
I haven’t read enough self-help books to offer an opinion on the genre, but Girl, Wash Your Face caught my attention because of the controversial reviews and the promise of a “cut-that-shit-out” narrative that would shock me into motivation. It was motivating, but probably not in the way Hollis intended it.
I love to revisit the childhood classics that have shaped my writing and my life. But I wasn’t prepared for how different Narnia felt when I wandered through the wardrobe holding my daughter’s hand.