Sometimes, my favorite machine at the gym is taken when I’m ready to work out that muscle. When this happens, immediately there’s a proverbial fork in the road appears in my mind. I often try to trick myself into thinking it’s not a fork, but a detour, because the left fork is an unlit, pothole-riddled,…

I noticed a peculiar thing today when thinking back on my writing class last night. I recall Lyon (my teacher) talking about how one must cherish their work, and make it their muse. One to be respected. Romanced. Even revered. That, for example, when soliciting feedback on ones work, it’s not an act of courage…