I’ve wanted to be a writer ever since 1st grade, when I got in trouble for writing stories where the characters (who were always named after all the students in my class) inevitably married one another at the end. Even though my writing has become a little more tinged with tragedy since those past stories about the wedding feasts of talking butterflies, I still hope that it falls primarily on the “comedy” side of the spectrum: for isn’t life, in the end, itself a divine comedy?
Prose:
A Story, part 1: I know it’s not a very creative name, but I’ll think of one eventually. This story is about two girls, a handsome pastor, a desperate kidnapping attempt, and a stoned German who speaks only in haikus. And, oh, yeah, Chuck Norris.
Poetry:
