When I read about Ferguson, I find myself thinking of a friend who, on first glance, is a strapping black dude. He’s over six feet tall and he’s muscled. In certain geographical regions and inside certain small minds, this is enough to categorize my friend as a threat. He’s big. He’s black. Therefore, in some …
Planting tomatoes in Seattle is the closest thing in my life to an act of faith. Everyone but best friend Larry told me I planted too late, but for the last two weeks, maybe three, I’ve been grabbing a few off the vine every evening to eat with dinner — and they’re more abundant by …
I was excited to get a positive response. The editor at a major publisher said yes to a story idea I’ve been pitching for at least a year. It had been rejected repeatedly for being too weird, too niche, too insider, but I didn’t care. It’s a good pitch, it’s got food and culture and …
“You can do that? You can put yourself in the story?” “I don’t know any other way to write, not really. It’s what I do. But yeah, it’s your story, write it the way you want.” Through a series of happy accidents I ended up teaching at the Midwest Writer’s Workshop in Muncie, Indiana. I …
He was a little guy, five years old maybe, and I know his name was Carson because all around, people were calling out “Go Carson!” as he was shaking his butt on the concrete pad that doubled for a dance floor. Carson was wearing a safety orange t-shirt and yellow sound protecting headphones, but he …
To convert the cargo pod – the penthouse – into a bedroom, you push a button. The lid tilts open like a giant clamshell. In the San Leandro lot, I eyed the ladder and the tent suspiciously, then crab-legged my way up. It was surprisingly comfortable and well ventilated, but the entry and exit scared me. …