There are a few variations (wildly attributed) of the notion that writing is sitting down and bleeding on the page.
The last 24 hours have been wild. The Coachella Review, a phenomenal literary journal, published my piece in its Summer, 2019 issue.
My somewhat-lyric essay is about the tiny monsters we grapple with as we walk through life, especially as a woman. It was inspired by my complex feelings that arose from attending the Women’s March and all the indignities, great and small, that I’ve — WE’VE — suffered and stuffed down just to get on with the business of living.
It was a cathartic, brutal piece to write, difficult to send out, and terrifyingly rewarding to have published.
I bloodied the page like I’ve never done before.
I’ve heard from a lot of readers, on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, both in public posts and privately. The piece is hitting home with a lot of women, which is wonderful and awful considering the topic.
Which means we need more of these types of stories told, shouted, whispered, sung, and cried.
