Untuned 

My heart is a violin With strings played to the breaking, And wound so tight I have no breath Since the hour of waking. Still sings my soul, though grown thin So lost among a score, And yearning for familiar rest I failed to love before.

Writing Victories

Just had to brag a little bit: Today marks the two-year birthday of my baby novel. On this day in 2014, I was inspired to write a book about a quirky little town that I stumbled upon and, to my delight, today I reached the word count required for my manuscript to qualify as a…

Affirming Ourselves to Death

Selfishness is nothing new, but it has grown to such enormous proportions that this generation is actually known as the "Entitlement Generation." The saddest part is that we, the members of this generation, have been deceived into believing that there is nothing wrong with this and even seem to have redefined morality as personal happiness. From birth, we have been spoon-fed on praise,…

Writing is Hard: A Lament

Writing is hard and I'll tell you why: I am not the Bard and that makes me cry. Red pens are bloodstains on my poor first draft Despite prep-school refrains about the English "RAFT." Well, dear school teachers, I must ask you now: Though you seemed to be preachers, I do not know how To find out my…