If I’m no longer assessing the media by its emotional resonance, where does that leave me?
Essay: Are you there, “The New Yorker”? It’s me, every hopeful college writer.
College writers are desperate creatures, yearning for attention and audience. Hungry for praise, popularity, and even infamy, we all seek that fix—the sweet glory of publication—to validate those hours upon days upon weeks spent with head bent in humble supplication to whatever god may grace us from within the void of the blank, white page. … Continue reading Essay: Are you there, “The New Yorker”? It’s me, every hopeful college writer.
Artwork: Whose woods these are I think I know…
While it’s easy to forget stories, their details, characters, and perhaps even the imagery so painstakingly created for the page, it’s unnervingly difficult to forget the impression it leaves upon you. Cold, slippery, and often creeping into your thoughts long after the story itself has been filed away and stored in memory, old emotions from … Continue reading Artwork: Whose woods these are I think I know…
Artwork: Lana Turner Has Collapsed
This charcoal and ink drawing was inspired by Frank O’Hara’s poem, “Lana Turner Has Collapsed.” I had always loved the poem, and was inspired to draw this image when my English GSI this semester said O’Hara was one of her favorite poets. This poem had always haunted me, especially as someone who grew up in … Continue reading Artwork: Lana Turner Has Collapsed
Short Story: Coffee Shop Curator
There are a lot of trees in New York City. No, I don't mean Central Park—of course there are trees in the park. I mean it's like someone looked around at this dark grey place and thought, "Hey, why don't we just plant a bunch of shit so that when they try to say New … Continue reading Short Story: Coffee Shop Curator
Artwork: Untitled
When you spend your days following train tracks, the past of your surroundings is unveiled quietly, laid out around you. The tracks run through the land, the ones safe to explore, or safe enough anyway, don’t lead to your future; they are a sidewalk for window-shopping through the past. You can follow and follow the … Continue reading Artwork: Untitled
BERKELEY FICTION REVIEW 