You capture so well that feeling all teachers dread, that we can't get through, that the divide between us and the student remains as wide as ever. The switch from action to quiet despair, from solitary panic to shared angst is beautifully done. It felt almost like reading an essay in sonnet form.
I haven’t tried one yet. I’ve written a couple of lyrical vignettes and added lyrical passages to essays, but I haven’t tried a lyrical essay yet. Thank you for planting that thought.
"times when memories of touch swell and dance like bright water shapes on a ceiling that sees only a man, alone" —staggering vulnerability, this fleshy human experience. You capture this uncertain fragility and all the valiant attempts to conquer it beautifully.
Gripping. The stark images and fresh language. The ceiling looking down on you, yes. This evokes the raw risk of writing well. The end reminds me of what it felt like to be 20. So full of questions and ambition and self-doubt.
Very cool Josh! Very moving story, and nice to go back to the origins of your work!
You capture so well that feeling all teachers dread, that we can't get through, that the divide between us and the student remains as wide as ever. The switch from action to quiet despair, from solitary panic to shared angst is beautifully done. It felt almost like reading an essay in sonnet form.
Thank you, Jeffrey. Have you tried a lyric essay?
I haven’t tried one yet. I’ve written a couple of lyrical vignettes and added lyrical passages to essays, but I haven’t tried a lyrical essay yet. Thank you for planting that thought.
Forgive me if I'm stating the obvious, but the epicenter for lyric essays is "Brevity": https://brevitymag.com/
Here are a couple of my favorites:
https://brevitymag.com/nonfiction/talk-big/
https://brevitymag.com/nonfiction/about-that-day/
Thank you, Josh.
"times when memories of touch swell and dance like bright water shapes on a ceiling that sees only a man, alone" —staggering vulnerability, this fleshy human experience. You capture this uncertain fragility and all the valiant attempts to conquer it beautifully.
Thanks, Kimberly. Rather a different flavor than your take on now-here.
Gripping. The stark images and fresh language. The ceiling looking down on you, yes. This evokes the raw risk of writing well. The end reminds me of what it felt like to be 20. So full of questions and ambition and self-doubt.
Thanks, Julie. This might be one of the reasons why no one would choose to relive their 20s.
Beautiful writing Joshua. The perfect read as I’m easing into writing… a story.
Glad it resonates. Sounds like that bi-directional bridge is working!