On June 10, 2005, I heard the words, “You have MS.” I was twenty-eight years old, numb from the waist down, terrified, and completely unprepared for what came next. I remember the fear most of all. The way it wrapped around everything. I was afraid I’d never walk again, afraid that I’d end up in … Read more
I almost quit. After months of writing, editing, sharing vulnerable stories from my life, and getting nothing but silence from literary agents, I sat at my desk and thought, Maybe this is it. Maybe no one cares. But that’s not the whole story. I’ve done everything they say you’re supposed to do. I broke through … Read more
The Sedona Room is my writing oasis. An artist hand painted a sunrise over Cathedral Rock across the walls and ceiling, wrapping the room in warm desert hues, reds and oranges and blues stretching overhead while I sit with my feet kicked up on the couch, air conditioning humming, trying to make sense of fifteen … Read more
I woke up to another rejection email today. It was polite, almost too polite: Thank you for responding to us. We appreciate your platform and mission. However, after delving a bit more into the market, we could see this project isn’t quite a fit for us. We decline with the greatest respect and deepest regret. … Read more
On a flight home from Boston, I found myself watching Bill & Ted Face the Music. It was Thanksgiving, and Jocelyn and I had just spent the holiday with my family, catching up with old friends and reminiscing about the past. As I settled into my seat and let the movie play, something about Bill … Read more
Gerard and I were back at our usual lunch spot, sandwiches from Al’s, the window open to the noise of State Street, when he set his phone down on the desk between us and hit play on a grainy clip of a man in a red and blue checkered shirt sitting alone at a table … Read more
The nurse handed me a cane. A standard-issue black cane with a soft Styrofoam grip. As soon as it touched my palm, something inside me shifted. The hospital room, the nurse’s voice, the weight of my diagnosis, they all faded. Because I had seen this cane before. Not this exact one, but one just like … Read more
It was 8 a.m. and I was late. Again. I’d pedaled across campus faster than I should have, backpack bouncing against my shoulder, still tasting the coffee I hadn’t finished. The lecture hall at Arizona State was already buzzing when I got there, backpacks hitting the floor, notebooks opening, that low roar of two hundred … Read more