Dad knows no other way to teach you Indians aren’t magical or mystical, despite what the T.V. and the teacher who made you read The Indian in the Cupboard has taught you.… more
Dad knows no other way to teach you Indians aren’t magical or mystical, despite what the T.V. and the teacher who made you read The Indian in the Cupboard has taught you.… more
Traveling Mexico has its own challenges. So why do I always want to crank the danger up to 11?… more
Clementine died on November 22nd, 2017. She was born three days later on the 25th at 7:35 in the morning. She weighed 36 grams and was 6.5 inches long and I will spend every day of my life missing her and wondering about the person she may have become. … more
After we had been dating nine months, Mark and I were in New Orleans visiting his friends. We were playing a game similar to that old television show The Newlyweds: to win, you accurately anticipated the other players’ answers, knowing how they would characterize themselves. One of the questions was. “How many people know you… more
What I kept thinking about as I read Victoria Falls, was that this is one thing artists, male artists especially, can do, they can listen, they can do better, and they can craft characters and story lines that map out different, more self-aware ways to be male: males that are responsive and grow, and fight against all the ways society convinces them, men, to suck.… more
Down in the bathroom, in the private stall, I saw how the bowl was like splattered with bright red blood. Gave me a scare. Wow, I’m glad that’s not me, I thought, but had the nagging sensation that it was gonna be me in no time at all—yikes! Shit seemed like an omen.… more
Kevin Carter committed suicide four months after winning the Pulitzer. … more
With images of sexism, oppression and white male privilege swirling through my head, the Women’s March and rally brought up a ton of issues, one of which was my writing.… more
My nightmares don’t have a pattern, but lately they’ve been about my dead father-in-law. I am walking down an unlit hallway, searching for the light switch. My hand traces the paneling, catching splinters from the knotty pine. A fluorescent light shines on James, like he’s on a stage, but he spoils the moment when he points to my bleeding finger.… more
I am bad at killing myself. When you are unsuccessful at suicide some people say you really just want attention or that it’s a cry for help. But really, sometimes you just suck at it.… more