What is voice? Is it really a thing? Does it really matter that much? It's one of those things that's never readily apparent in your writing unless it's nonexistent.
Weekly childhood journeys along the North Branch Trail inspire a lifelong love of adventure.
From a young age, many of us are faced with a seemingly simple yet life-defining question: What do you want to be when you grow up?
I've recently started to read the Bible, the King James Version to be exact. It's a nice little leather-bound book with gilded edges. I've had it for ages, well since I was last in college well over ten years ago, the exact date of purchase is lost to memory. What I can remember is the …
There's a magic that exists When you visit a new land The journey alone is nearly enough Embarking on the quest is fulfillment Perhaps now that void will be satisfied Only No matter how far you travel The same constraints restrain It's impossible to outrun yourself It's not easy to see the world Without first …
I've always been an avid daydreamer. I can vividly recall summer afternoons standing idly in the right field of a little league game, mitt and hand on knees, waiting for a fly ball that almost never came. During those long fifteen minute spans spent standing, waiting, doing absolutely nothing, my ten-year-old mind had plenty of time to gaze up at the cloud-filled sky and contemplate the mysteries of the universe. I remember thinking about the strangeness of life, about what life as an adult might be like, about the existence of a higher power.
Time is our enemy. It is a relentless beast that can never be stalled, that never retreats, but will continually march forward at an even pace, dragging us all (the universe included) to an inevitable death. Yikes.
It has been a long time coming, but it is time to learn to disbelieve in the legend of yourself. I know this might seem strange after a lifetime of being told you are special or growing up in a world where very literally anyone could potentially become famous overnight (no matter how fleetingly), but the truth of the matter is, you are no one.
And so we fade back into the familiar. Give up on that morning workout. Go back to eating carbs. Shelve that new novel idea. Scrap that cover letter. Rejection hurts and so does admitting to ourselves that we aren't as great as we thought we were. And so often, we fail to even fail.