In September of 2010, I was starting my second year of an MFA program at NYU. I’d moved to the city straight after undergrad, determined to make it as a writer.
Ten years ago, I was engulfed in green. It’s what I saw when I peered past my living room window in Dublin, at the small park across the road where junkies...
Ten years ago, I developed a fascination with war. It began with the accounts of military women who deployed to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and...
I was two days away from turning 21. I was a virgin. I’d never been drunk. And I was about to venture on the most life-changing experience any young adult could fathom at the time: I was going to study abroad.
It sounds like the start of a YA novel—the girl is away from...
2010 is when I emerged from the tunnel of small children at home to stare, blinking, at the future. I was forty-three years old, and I’d only recently stopped..
The name of Reuben Jackson’s poetry class, “Bold as Love,” intrigued me even though I had never much valued poetry. I had no accolades, no awards, no audience.
