“I am carried, cared for, not yet touched by our culture’s casting of my body as other, as divergent. It is less like memory and more like myth.”
essay
Ungrown
“Here it is: Women are the gravity stopping humanity from drifting off aimlessly into the void. We mothers, sisters, daughters, aunts, grandmothers — women — are the backbone of the world.”
Breathe In
“It wasn’t until after I returned from Iraq that I found out what all was tossed into those burn pits at The Dump.”
The Abortion I Didn’t Have
“I would never give my son back, for anything, but I would certainly give him a different mother.”
Searching for Sleeper Trains
“Trains are still a part of my blood, my birthright. Through them I embrace my own kind of mobility and ambition, those two valued traits in my family line, if not quite manifested in the direction I’m heading.”
The Gradual Extinction of Softness
“The memory of hunger is a curse that never leaves you.”
The Stories Only Women Are Told
“Women need to keep talking. To one another, sure. But also, to the boys and men we hold dear—and not just in times like these, in times of crisis when it feels like we are simply shouting our despair into the void.”
There Are No Seasons: A Reading List on Loss, Love, and Living with Fire in California
Six personal essays about or inspired by wildfire.
Cresting the Wave
“A surfer comes to grips with a dark family secret born from the swells near Bob Hall Pier.”
The Great Beyond
“While it is not new for technology to mediate our relationship to death, the interactivity and public-ness of in-memoriam profiles is distinctly novel.”
