August 15, 2026
May you walk through the woods and hear bird song.
May you feel a sweet breeze that ruffles your hair.
May foxes and bees cross your path as you walk,
May peace fill your heart as you dream.
October 11, 2026
It’s easy to forget that the Great Lakes Region was once an ancient ocean. During the Paleozoic Era, the sea advanced and receded multiple times, leaving behind colored layers of waterlines that reveal fossil remnants of ancient marine organisms. The Petoskey Stone’s honeycombed patterns are what I am after, a fragment of fossilized coral.
October 10, 2026
An intricate thriller, this novel wasn’t what I expected, and as someone who believes that they can sniff out twists and turns, I did not see its ending coming.
October 9, 2026
The lake swallows me in a scramble of cramping muscles and weeds. I flail, gasp swallow thrash; bubbles jet through water, a string of crystal balls to the past I reach to catch.
October 8, 2026
The novel is dark and fast-paced, and the cast one that we can sympathize with — from the bystanders even to the most deplorable.
October 7, 2026
The story flashes from past to present, showing how he trained her to commit petty crimes, and how those crimes have impacted her. Throughout the novel, she reconnects with people from her past to uncover secrets she didn’t even know existed.
October 7, 2026
Do you remember when you launched your body into the deep, cold water, the surrender as you plummeted through complete darkness, paused?
October 5, 2026
Art fades into the gloom, music can no longer be heard. The players become ghosts on a dim stage. Words separate from their meaning and books are useless objects…
October 3, 2026
You caress the nape of my neck, your kisses tickle my throat, your soft touch dances along my body as you embrace me.
October 3, 2026
I love a good first-person novel, and in this one, we follow the troubled Hannah as she navigates the loss of her fiancé. Hannah’s friend, Tess, suggests an unplugged wellness retreat in the desert, and gathers their friends together to make this retreat extra special.
October 2, 2026
My parents viewed the Dhaka-Chattogram highway as a lawless river of steel. Their solution was to ride the intercity bus — a massive, multi-ton behemoth that felt like a rolling castle. Inside, we felt insulated from the chaos.
October 1, 2026
We kneel in the attic,
sifting through what’s left —
not relics, but proof
that we were here once,
September 30, 2026
Machines, tubes, pricks — Those were extensions. Now I am farther out. Air comes round and it has been for quite awhile…