Sep 17, 2020
Finding an “I” in Indian Literature
It turns out all I want to find in literature, whether I write or read it, is a little piece of myself.
It turns out all I want to find in literature, whether I write or read it, is a little piece of myself.
People have sex. Women have sex. It would feel irresponsible to censor or smooth over this part of their (and our) lives.
Why can’t the abled world fit into our world?
Reflecting on my personal work history, I’ve learned that searching for a job I love has often kept me from balance in my creative life.
In this three-installment column, Chloe Caldwell and her 12-month essay generator students write about their daily life during the Covid-19 crisis
In this three-installment column, Chloe Caldwell and her 12-month essay generator students write about their daily life during the Covid-19 crisis
In this three-installment column, Chloe Caldwell and her 12-month essay generator students write about their daily life during the Covid-19 crisis
Writing like I didn’t think anyone would ever see my words made me bold and reckless, taking risks I might have avoided if I knew my book would be published.
Writing was not the thing. It got me to the real thing—how I saw myself and my relationship to the world.
Dillard stalked a world just beginning its freefall into an unprecedented amount of change, and her response was to look, and to look hard.
Latinidad, to me, was like a shrunken sweater. I never wanted to get rid of it, but I couldn’t imagine how it would possibly fit.
What I’d been looking for at the convent, I could find in reading and writing. If other writers could channel their desires, I could use it, too.
When my students finished a draft, all I wanted them to do was sit inside of it for longer than was comfortable. To acknowledge and celebrate what they’d accomplished.
Writing was just something I thought happened to people naturally, that whatever wasn’t written was eventually forgotten. And I wanted to remember everything.
Despite how fruitless both nursing and writing can feel, I choose to engage with both.
These worlds I dearly love, with science-fiction that supersedes the science in our reality, deserve Smart Drives and automatic doors and disabled heroes, too.
There are far more writers ringing up your groceries, writers pulling your daily espresso shot, writers in the laundries of hotels and security tagging jeans at the mall and filling your prescriptions and pouring your beer into a clean cold glass.
Writers, take note: A submission says, please pick me, I’ll be waiting. A pitch says, catch me or you’ll miss the ball.
You loved his talent first. You hope that he will not love you less, for all that you do not now achieve.
Will my face betray me when it’s time to talk about my book in public?
