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BLANK PAGE // FICTION FEARS

Sitting in Intro to Creative Writing this semester, I look at the other students in the room and wonder how much of themselves they place in their fiction. I wonder whether their dialogues are based on conversations they have sort of had and whether their characters’ thoughts are based on their own. I squirm and look down at times, feeling as though I know their secrets, even though they have never shared them with me.

September 13, 2013

We Need To Separate Its Vertebrae, Its Meat

Surely this live feed of a grey desktop cannot be art, and that fuzzed white noise is not, and the eight saran-wrapped cardboard shapes overlaid with orange, yellow and blue fat extension cords are trying to be.

September 13, 2013

Ecstasy Zoo

We were supposed to arrive at New York City’s Randall Island for a final day of electronic music that never came.

September 6, 2013

Give Us Some Space

There is one issue that looms over us all, informing each and every one of our choices. I’m sure most of you will know instinctively what I’m talking about. But for those of you who don’t, I’m talking about the NASA’s plan to lasso an asteroid.

September 6, 2013

Magna Carta…Holy Yale!

Jay-Z is speaking not to the American dream, but to the Yale dream.

September 6, 2013

The Secrets of Applying to Seminars

It doesn’t take Albert Einstein to see how competitive and stressful shopping period is at Yale.

August 30, 2013

Dreamsicle Summer

The summer after I turned 20, I spent every day in mud-caked Ked sneakers, the same pair of blue jeans, and T-shirts stained brown and pink by darkroom chemicals and juice of an unidentifiable flavor.

August 30, 2013

The Miley Interview She Doesn’t Want You To Read

I had the, um, privilege to talk with Miley Cyrus backstage after her provocative MTV Video Music Awards performance. She didn’t really answer any of my questions and left a big welt on my forehead (more on that later).

August 30, 2013

A willful amnesia

In the end I want to remember more than the beginning, more than the happy and sunny and warm. It’s not possible, but I’ll say it anyway: I want to remember everything.

April 26, 2013

On limits and self-respect

Self-respect is less grandiose than triumph or unending praise; it requires more of you and guarantees less from your environment.

April 26, 2013

Carried away

In my days of post-senior essay reverie, I’ve become the sort of TV-consuming monster I only dreamed of being back when I had real responsibility. I’d worked my way through countless current sitcoms when one day, I walked in on a housemate watching “Sex and the City” on his laptop, and walked out six hours later with the entire first season under my belt.

April 26, 2013