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7/7 Challenge and Update on Grad Schools

Back in December and January, I went a little crazy and applied to five graduate schools for programs in creative writing, fully expecting not to get into any of them. But only a day after submitting my last application, I heard back from University of Portsmouth with an offer. This was followed by an offer from Nottingham Trent University and Chatham University.

I am still pretty blown away. I’m not affecting false modesty when I say I honestly don’t believe my writing is anything special. I’m proud of my ideas and characters, but I’ve always thought of myself as a pretty normal, unremarkable writer. I think this comes from growing up in my teen years with some…Continue Reading

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In Standard

Reaccepting the Unacceptable

I have posted before (a while ago) about the cycling stages of accepting my rheumatoid arthritis I go through when new things crop up. But this week I’ve thinking a bit about why it’s so hard to be okay with stuff getting worse when I’ve already gone through the process of trying to be okay numerous times in the past.

This week I went to see a nurse practitioner about my toenail (my doctor couldn’t fit me in for another few weeks). Because of my Raynaud’s Syndrome, the toenail had gotten weird and had to be removed about two years ago. It grew back more dragonish than before, and has recently started to hurt whenever any…Continue Reading

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Senior Roadtrip: Orlando

Around sophomore year, Erika brought up going to the Magical World of Harry Potter in Orlando, FL. At long last, the two of us made it work out. I am here to present the full account of the adventures. But first: Introductions. Everyone, Erika. Erika, everyone. Erika is a senior English major (lit concentration), which means she is awesome.

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In Standard

Mourning a Moment

I do love to travel. I do love new places, new experiences. I can’t imagine living in one place for more than five years. But sometimes having the whole world as your home sucks.

Over winter break, there has been a gaping hole in the house: My dog, Rosey, who we put to sleep in July. I left right after she was buried. I’ve spent a lot of time at home loving on Melly (my sister’s dog), a lot of time playing with her to help heal how much I miss my dog. But I knew before I left for my last semester at Berry I needed to go visit the spot Rosey was buried…Continue…Continue Reading

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When Life is Full of Rejections and Not Enough Tea

I spent about four months on an essay about prejudice, Afghanistan, healing, history, and peace. When I say I put my heart into it, I don’t just mean I wrote over seven drafts. I mean I descended into the pit. I read accounts that left me sobbing. I searched my memory and poked into sections of my life that are still raw, that I still don’t totally understand. And I wrote, and cried, and drank tea, and curled up in my chadar, and revised, revised, revised.

I submitted this piece to a contest and crossed my fingers. Today I found out I didn’t even get an honorable mention.

For a second, I was surprised. Then came the other…Continue Reading

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Farewell, 2012

2012 started with me thinking my finger had collapsed and I would not be able to go abroad. I have to say, the rest of the year was filled with enormous blessings and healing.

This year, I:

  • Made my home in England.
  • Took an impromptu weekend trip to Barcelona, and saw a cathedral that left me gaping.
  • Flew the TARDIS.
  • Stood in front of the Book of Kells in an empty room. Had my jaw drop in Trinity Library.
  • Got a literary tour of Bath (England) with my obscure knowledge of a ha-ha wall.
  • Sat in a room full of Irishmen (and Scotsmen) on St. Patrick’s Day and felt the floor vibrate with our singing.
  • Discovered my dear love, electric bicycles, and biked Inishmore.
  • Spent…Continue Reading
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Of Blessings, Writing, and Birthdays

About one year ago next week, I began to write Blessings. I figured it might be nice to celebrate its birthday with a little trip down memory lane and some commentary on writing itself.

I feel a particular attachment to Blessings as opposed to my other manuscripts because it is entirely mine. The Fountain’s Edge, Webbed, and Popinjay are all either retellings or inspired-by sort of stories, and I love them dearly, too. But Blessings has been my first story that lives and breathes in my head, fully mine.

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