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Posts tagged ‘essay’

“Ground Truthing” in Flycatcher: A Journal of Native Imagination

I’m thrilled to publish a new essay in Flycatcher: A Journal of Native Imagination. Below is an excerpt, though please turn to the journal for the entire 5,000 word piece. And while you’re there, check out the whole lineup of poems, stories, essays, and artwork. As editor Christopher Martin notes, “Flycatcher strives to explore what it means — or what it might mean — to be native to this earth and its particular places.” Right on, I say. Keep exploring. Be native! Read more

Book-length memoir or essay collection: Which do you prefer?

Though I’m a river guy at heart, I’ve always had a soft spot for ponds, the kind with cattails and lily pads and a tiny stream feeding one end and departing from another. The songbirds, the turtles, the plopping frogs, they all fascinate me in a wilderness-on-the-doorstep way. Read more

Humor, outrage, awe: What kind of nature writing moves you?

What kind of nature writing moves you? Is it the skill of the writer or the poignancy of her cause that gives the writing its luster? Who are your favorites, and why? Read more

The write stuff?

While pursuing an MFA in creative nonfiction from Ashland University, I’ve been pitching and writing short articles for local and national publications. Two are pictured above, High Country News (see my previous blog post) and La Crosse Magazine, which published “An Encouraging Sky” in its July/August 2010 issue. Read more

High Country News: Gary Snyder, Jack Kerouac, and lookout tales in the North Cascades

Good news! My North Cascades-inspired essay, “Busted Beer Cans and Baby Culture,” was published in High Country News, appearing in its magazine and on its website, www.hcn.org. Read more

Memories like mountains: Using photos for route finding

Pen in hand, where do I start? My mind races with landscapes, family and friends, good times and heartbreakers, journeys beyond count. The memories stretch across decades, scattered like ten thousand riverbed rocks, each small enough to hold in my hand, uniquely jewel-like, yet all of them born from the same incomprehensible source, some mountain far upstream beyond view. There’s no trail here. It’s route finding like I’ve never known. Read more

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