Last weekend, my friend Sharon Harrigan had an essay featured on The Rumpus titled “Stain.” In it, she describes a twisted encounter with a stranger during the innocuous act of walking her dog. At twelve years old, she was old enough to sense that something was off in his manner, his casual and cruel way […]Read more "The Knife Man, the Monster and the Pen Pal"
When I was eighteen I went to an alcohol-fueled party with some school friends, and I kissed and made out with someone for the first time. The boy in question was older than me, hence he was able to legally procure the half a dozen shitty coolers I was drunk on, and it was rumored […]Read more "What’s Really Behind “Middling Millennials”"
When I was fifteen all of my favorite writers were men. I deliberately shunned writing by women because they were overwrought with sentimentality and flowery feelings. I wanted grit. I wanted edge. I wanted provocative. I wanted to read the works of writing that made me want to throw up my middle finger along with […]Read more "The Puppets of Periodicals"