Advanced Writing Course – Page 2

I Just Like Movies

by Michael GordonPosted on February 1, 2022February 1, 2022Advanced Writing CourseCreative Nonfiction

Is it even possible to explain why you like something? And I don’t mean explaining why it’s cool, but why, over everything else people love in this world, you love what you do.

Lima Is Hidden

by Sofía SanchezPosted on January 28, 2022January 26, 2022Advanced Writing CourseCreative Nonfiction

As fog, I’ve spread across lands, past oceans, and deserts, both sand, and ice. Nothing compares to my obligation to the city on the cliff.

How To Be a Heartbreaker

by Celine BassmanPosted on January 27, 2022January 26, 2022Advanced Writing CourseFiction

Bea was running late. She hoped it came off like a cute girl-next-door personality trait, like she’d show up all frazzled, tripping over her words, a little out of breath, her cheeks flushed and her smile wider than ever, like, I’m here, I rushed all the way here just for you.

My Bed Is a Vehicle

by Mai MageedPosted on November 12, 2021November 10, 2021Advanced Writing CoursePoetry

We spend our whole lives going/ to each other’s rooms and then back/ to our own.

Boppy’s Year in Vietnam

by Caroline MeredithPosted on November 9, 2021Advanced Writing CourseCreative Nonfiction

Tom Casey’s letters from Vietnam are not merely a historical artifact, but a bildungsroman, the story of a man discovering the limits of his duty and the faults of his country.

The Pill

by Catherine DevinePosted on November 5, 2021November 3, 2021Advanced Writing CourseCreative Nonfiction

I soon joined the club of licit pink-pill slipping girls myself, along with the 82 percent of teen birth-control users who rely on the drug for purposes, at least in part, other than pregnancy prevention.

The House That Cotton Built

by Aliya JonesPosted on October 29, 2021Advanced Writing CourseCreative Nonfiction

There’s stillness: the whispers of trees and soft winds that make them heard. They’re talking to us; we’ve come to listen. Plantations are vast, empty, filled with invisible souls and their all-too-audible cries; these acres are not that.

Ambassador

by David RosalesPosted on October 25, 2021Advanced Writing CourseCreative Nonfiction

Nobody has “wise-old-man energy” like my grandfather, Mauricio Rosales-Rivera.

Rolling with the Punches, in Laughter

by Trinity GarlickPosted on October 15, 2021Advanced Writing CourseCreative Nonfiction

On my mother's humor

Summer in the Bronx

by Cassi QuaysonPosted on October 13, 2021October 12, 2021Advanced Writing CourseCreative Nonfiction

Summer in the Bronx lasts forever, and it is like this: naked bodies that are at once child-skinny and child-swollen sprinting through spray-capped fire hydrants, stained popsicle sticks in neat piles on the sidewalk, asphalt that remembers the warm smell of rain long after it storms.