By Brian Volck
Writing, at least writing anything worthwhile, is a lonely business, and I’m a lonely person. Some will surely scoff at that last bit. Others will say I’m whining. After all, I’ve been married nearly twenty-five years to a woman I’m absolutely in love with and I have more friends than any man deserves. Continue Reading …
By Gregory Wolfe
I’d like to say a few words today about memory, inspired by St. Augustine, whose Confessions we have been reading together. The Confessions are the first great work of autobiography in Western culture. And they have much wisdom to offer to writers, and perhaps especially to writers who care deeply about matters of faith. Continue Reading …
By Kelly Foster
My maternal grandmother died somewhat unexpectedly last night. Two weeks ago, she entered the hospital and then a rapid-fire sequence of strokes took their toll on her body, already deteriorated by years of advanced Alzheimer’s and emphysema. Last night, my family all waited beside her hospital bed, watching her collect already shrunken breaths, scattershot and infrequent. Continue Reading …
By Ann Conway
For most of my adult life, I’ve been resistant to allegiance—to people, to places. The latter may seem strange, since I’ve lived in northern New England on and off since 1972. In many ways, Maine’s iron earth seems my native country. But then, on other days, I think—not. It’s an old impulse: I have to be somewhere else. Continue Reading …
By Gregory Wolfe
On behalf of the staff and faculty of the SPU MFA program, I’d like to offer a warm welcome to all the friends and family of the graduates—including a number of alumni—who have come here to celebrate this special day. I am going to confess to you that it is a little harder for me today to maintain the sort of gravitas that I normally reserve for occasions such as this. That’s because it’s less than 24 hours since the “Santa Fe Lullabies” contest. Continue Reading …
By Allison Backous
I have a confession to make. The kind of confession that reveals you as someone who is more pathetic than depraved. I once had a profile on eharmony.com. And by “once,” I mean “recently,” and by “had,” I mean “waiting for my membership to end so that I can close the profile once and for all and forget that this ever happened.” Continue Reading …
By Dyana Herron
The first time I experienced a true yearning for heaven, I wasn’t in church—I was at a rock concert. I mean, if you could call it that. In Atlanta, in what amounted to not much more than a glorified gymnasium, Icelandic group Sigur Ros (in English: “Victory Rose”) sawed out their trademark brand of intensely emotive, atmospheric music. Continue Reading …
By Kelly Foster
Since birth, the rhythm of my week has been set by church. Both my parents have held leadership positions in the varied churches we have attended over the years. In one of the many commonplaces of the evangelical testimony, I could easily say that I was indeed trained to be in church “every time the doors were open.” Continue Reading …
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