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It’s Been Four Years. It’s Time for a Shift.

Dear reader, I created this website in 2015, my sophomore year of high school. I cannot fathom the fact that I've created four (almost five) years' worth of content, writing, and online connections. When I look back at my first... Continue Reading →

Follow my new YouTube channel and listen to my spoken word piece (find the preview on Instagram)! Please leave a comment or like below so that I know whether to continue this series.

Guest Post: Finding Your Form

Hi! My name is Emily O’Malley, and I’m Hannah’s roommate. I’d like to think that we lucked out; it isn’t every day that your roommate is also in your major! Since I didn’t plan on majoring in English before starting... Continue Reading →

The Magic of Grammar

Poor Grammar. It has such a strong, hateful stereotype, doesn't it? People call it unnecessary, ugly, devious, and even sadistic. But Grammar and its convention henchmen are actually quite helpful and vital to the English language, at least literarily. The... Continue Reading →

Grazing Between the Chaos and the Calm

I am standing on the bridge between chaos and tranquility, between crimson and greenery. I want to drink from that well of blue water, to graze beneath the hearts of rounded mountains. I want to stop and dance with the... Continue Reading →

I Won a Writing Contest on Literative.com [Submitting To Contests that Pay]

Great news! On Literative.com, a website for writers to hone their craft, my piece "When People Watching" won first place in the June writing contest. This month's contest was supported by Endless Beautiful, an organization dedicated to inspiring writers and... Continue Reading →

If Poets Were High Schoolers

Happy Friday! This weekend, I'm planning on seeing a comedic play about the relationship between Edgar Allan Poe and Emily Dickinson, which made me think of doing something like this. Here's a humorous piece that places modern-day labels on famous... Continue Reading →

The Librarian

There is a librarian who organizes fluttering memories. The birds fly in with ebony words smeared on their wings and they always soar with more questions than answers; her thoughts are dust-covered dancers twirling behind crumbling books locked in skyscraper-shelves;... Continue Reading →

Why I Wanted to Be a Writer

I used to want to be an astronaut, floating above the earth and watching the stars; instead of a story teller, I wanted to be a listener. My great-grandmother wobbled over to the dining room table every morning to slip... Continue Reading →

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