One of my placeholder classes (the ones that were “easy A’s” and had no lessons relevant to preparing me for college) in high school was creative writing. At this point in my life, I had no intentions of pursuing writing–I was a Chicago-bound marketing/finance double-major that was expected to cast my passion for the arts … Continue reading
For the past few years, I became more and more cynical as I observed the role of technology in the literary world. As kindles and e-readers became more and more popular, I began to worry that buying books electronically would wipe out the need for printed books at all, and bookstores as we know them … Continue reading
Returning home for the holidays can reveal a lot of things–how boring the suburbs actually are, how delicious “real food” is, and how many relics of the past have piled up in former bedrooms. One of these artifacts from the recent past include my CD collection. I used to hoard CD’s, and this was also … Continue reading
Recently, the film adaptation of Stephen Chbosky’s The Perks of Being a Wallflower was released. After a colorful montage of teens eating at diners, driving cars, and cheering at football games, the trailer ends with a breathy recitation of the quotation that has become synonymous with the novel itself: “And in that moment, I swear … Continue reading
I’m eternally astounded by the influence that pop culture reigns over our appearances. More specifically to me, music’s unwieldy power to dictate my wardrobe and hair styles, for better and for much, much worse. I still can’t–and sometimes prefer not to–fully comprehend the game of chemical ping pong my hair had endured throughout my teen … Continue reading
I don’t like libraries. I prefer bookstores. The rows and rows of repeating books that I can actually purchase, take home, and stuff onto my bookshelf to reference later appeal to me so much more than quiet, dark, confusing libraries where I’m not even allowed to talk above a whisper. I hate having a time … Continue reading
I spent a huge part of my childhood waiting for my life to start. Like most kids, I had dreams of fame and fortune, read about writers and artists being “discovered,” and believed that the best masterpieces were made in a moment of catharsis, when the artist, overcome with a rush of inspiration, had no … Continue reading
FRENCH PRESS 