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A Video Game Review: The Plucky Squire, Plus Some Thoughts About Other Video Games I’ve Played
Before our attempt at Terra Mystica, my spouse sat me down to watch a fifteen-minute YouTube tutorial on how to play it. About five minutes in, I asked him at which point the game was supposed to start being fun. Eight hours into Twilight Imperium, I finally forfeited when I fell asleep face down on the floor.
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Confessions of a Volunteer Lighthouse Keeper: Tawas Point 2024
I thought a lot about rule-breaking and coincidence this summer. As I've worked on writing my memories from my Michigan trip, these are the themes I've tried to connect to the details. I've pulled a little from each vignette I've written so far, to give a glimpse into each story.
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In Which I Explain to My Goddaughter (and Myself) What It Means to Have (and Be) a Godmother
When close friends asked my partner and I to be godparents to their daughter, the four of us got to decide what the relationship would mean to us.
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I Suspect My Dad Raised Me to Rewrite His Book: On Harnessing Words of Dis/Encouragement
Much of what I was reading voraciously at the time could be called uninspired, but it scratched an itch, gave me something to mimic, and it was published. I wanted more than anything to do what those authors had done and smell my own words mixed with that pulp potpourri.
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Swapping Bitter for Sweet: Miss Gilmore Learns How to Charm a Widower
After Mrs. Bell returned to Bell Hall not three days ago, she sent a note to Ludley Park inviting my mother and me to tea and quibbled not in telling Mama that she had great hopes of my being just the thing to “uncloud” her nephew’s eye.
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La Mordida: Francesco Pays the Price to Spare His Son
Francesco stood outside his store inspecting a delivery when Diego Cordoba appeared down the road astride a horse, leading a man behind him at a slow walk--Joaquin, stumbling drunkenly and tied to a rope that was looped around Cordoba’s saddle horn.
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When Black Wallace Met Shortstack
A loner by choice and a fighter by nature, Black Wallace would have been content to remain friendless, wifeless, and childless for the rest of his days.
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Drunk-Writing Emails to My Nephew (A Weekend Activity)
Hi T, it's Bekah. I told you that I would write to you, and for you to write to me, with your writing and for writing advice. If you really want to write and if you enjoy it, I want to be your mentor.
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I Told My Dad I Could Never Love His Novel Like He Did (I Was Wrong)
I get it, Dad. It’s your baby, I said. He’d just finished the most current of several iterations of his novel and now he was trying to persuade me to edit it.
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How a FB Memory Re-Converted Me (to Social Media)
No wonder my mom was worried. Looking at myself from five years ago—rail-thin, smiling fiercely in my birthday purchases—the story starts coming together in my mind. I think I’m ready to tell it.
