Author Archives: Emily Appelbaum

There was a time when I couldn’t sit down to write, except to write about writing. As a bratty 11th grader, I’d fashioned not a single line of verse when I boldly proposed an “independent study” in poetry with the impeccable Ms. Cherie Thompson, who, though young-ish, wore tweed and glasses and talked incredibly fast. »

When the front door opens, the rhythmic clunk churning from the back of the small shop at 250 College St. is so loud it nearly overwhelms the jingle of bells overhead. The bells’ twinkle brings Richard Purpora striding forward from the store’s bowels, nimbly weaving among towering stacks of jars and cans, piles of leather »

I had just sat down in one of the wire chairs in Thain Family Café in Bass Library and opened my computer, when a girl I recognized turned to me from the next table. “Did you see that e-mail? It was just popping up on my screen. “Sad News.” I hardly knew this girl. I »