If we let it, there is a broader literary spectrum ready for us to become a part of.
i am seeking / the crucial region of the soul where response is pitted against intimately / implicated anteriors
“Close Your Eyes, Hold Hands by Chris Bohjalian, is a story about loss, love and faith in the wake of a cataclysmic disaster.”
The advice I find myself giving goes back to those ideas about critical thinking. I’d say, don’t think about what you want from a poem; instead, think about what the poem is trying to do.
“Trust that you do, indeed, have a story worth telling, but know that stories don’t tell themselves—it’s the telling that compels readers.”
What could be better than tea and books? In my opinion, nothing. For a sunny afternoon in September, I spent my time at the Westgate Hotel in downtown San Diego for the Ladies Literary Tea. The guest of honor was Susan Vreeland, a San Diego native.
People disappear all the time. Ask any policeman. Better yet, ask a journalist. Disappearances are bread-and butter to journalists… Many of the lost will be found, eventually, dead or alive. Disappearances, after all, have explanations. Usually.
College is supposed to broaden one’s horizons, not limit them; it is supposed to challenge people. The question on my mind, as the notion of trigger warnings begins to encompass the widely accepted literary canon, is where does it stop?
September 24, 2014 marked the kickoff of fall’s Hugh C. Hyde Living Writers Series with preeminent Chinese American poet Marilyn Chin.
Literature provides us with a way to explore ideas and try out points of view that we might not want to enact in real life. We can explore crises of identity that allow us to understand ourselves better.