Prose
Some of these pieces were written for school; others are just small things I've found in old notebooks. Check it out and see for yourself!
Apparently, the only essays I write that I like are somehow connected to childhood. We could freud that until the cows come home... But let's not. (Besides, verbing weird language.) This is a fairly loose explanation of my room as a child. I haven't seen the space in more than 12 years, and I still have the clearest image of it.
Language of Love
A short essay I wrote on the subject of words themselves--and the childlike joy that can be found playing with a just a few syllables.
The Novel Problem
I've noticed that many people--including me!--tend to say things like, "I wish that I could write a novel!" I tried to figure out why it is that so many people freeze up, even when they know what they want to write.
