Book of the Month: Harlem Shuffle by Colson Whitehead (2021)


Book of the Month: Harlem Shuffle by Colson Whitehead (2021) "Born and raised in New York, Whitehead, who lives on the Upper West Side, writes and talks about the city with a native’s mix of affection and exasperation, marveling at its endless contradictions — the grotesque wealth and grinding poverty, the ambition and dereliction, the striving and corruption, the loneliness and misanthropy, the glamour and grime. He finished writing “Harlem Shuffle” during the first few months of the pandemic, when much of the city felt abandoned and hollowed out, silent except for the sirens. "'I’m describing a Harlem that’s in decline [...]

Book of the Month: Harlem Shuffle by Colson Whitehead (2021)2021-11-11T09:44:53-05:00

How to Write a Letter of Recommendation


How to Write a Letter of Recommendation It's that time of year. No, not just for New Year's resolutions! It's application season. And many applications--for graduate schools, summer internships, and fellowships--require letters of recommendation, sometimes referred to as LORs. It is an honor to be asked to write an LOR, but you need to establish some ground rules and create a basic recommendation letter template to use as a starting point; otherwise, the deadlines could pile up, and there are futures on the line! No pressure. First, you should only consent to write a LOR for someone you know and whose [...]

How to Write a Letter of Recommendation2021-11-16T16:27:55-05:00

A Poem for You: After the Winter


After the Winter Claude McKay  Some day, when trees have shed their leaves          And against the morning's white The shivering birds beneath the eaves          Have sheltered for the night, We'll turn our faces southward, love,          Toward the summer isle Where bamboos spire to shafted grove          And wide-mouthed orchids smile. And we will seek the quiet hill          Where towers the cotton tree, And leaps the laughing crystal rill,          And works the droning bee. And we will build a [...]

A Poem for You: After the Winter2021-10-20T11:49:55-04:00

A Poem for You: won’t you celebrate with me


won’t you celebrate with me Lucille Clifton  won’t you celebrate with me what i have shaped into a kind of life? i had no model. born in babylon both nonwhite and woman what did i see to be except myself? i made it up here on this bridge between starshine and clay, my one hand holding tight my other hand; come celebrate with me that everyday something has tried to kill me and has failed.

A Poem for You: won’t you celebrate with me2021-10-20T11:44:30-04:00

A Poem for You: The Life of a Writer


The Life of a Writer Jalynn Harris the life of a writer is desire              i hammer into the page                          i make up my mind: the streetlight  is not the moon, but anything can be             made beautiful under the ease                          of my hammer  i wish you could see that i write in blue ink             the color of oceans & early mornings                          & everything is clear like  tears rushing towards the chin              of my desire. i pen what i’m meant                         to pen. how deep in love i am  & how silly of me to spend all morning dreaming              about love & not expect [...]

A Poem for You: The Life of a Writer2021-10-20T11:38:29-04:00

A Poem for You: somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond


somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond E. E. Cummings  somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond any experience,your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose or if your wish be to close me,i and my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending; nothing which we [...]

A Poem for You: somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond2021-10-20T11:34:14-04:00

The Magic of Showing Up


The Magic of Showing Up In our Writing Space Group (a group of Princeton employees who like to write and meet once a month to do so),  we often talk about finding the time and motivation to pursue our own creative projects. Some of us write every day for work, some don't, but we all struggle to find a consistent, viable schedule for our own creative writing projects. We have discussed many strategies, and the key to consistency, it seems, may come from something as simple as sitting down at your desk or kitchen table. A personal trainer once told me [...]

The Magic of Showing Up2021-12-01T16:21:31-05:00

A Poem for You: A Love Note


A Love Note Adeeba Shahid Talukder for Willem My love, you are water upon water upon water until it turns azure, mountainous. The horizon fills like sand between glass marbles. So much has passed between us— last night you told me to press your hand harder and harder as I pained. The sunset was at its last embers. The dark was stealing the blue light from our room. I was falling into you. ~ ~ Compress water and it turns to ice— compress beauty and it loses breath. Gaze at it too long, and even the wide mirror of the ocean [...]

A Poem for You: A Love Note2021-09-21T13:44:12-04:00

APoem for You: Iyáaní (Spirit, Breath, Life)


Iyáaní (Spirit, Breath, Life) Sara Marie Ortiz At Haak’u Within the community, on the land, in it, and of it, there is a way in all things that Acoma (Haak’u) children are taught. Shadruukaʾàatuunísṿ It is a way of saying. It is a way of saying our life and the way things grow and grow. It is a way of saying the children are growing so quickly. It is a way of saying the plants, which we so lovingly care for in the fields, are growing and growing. It is a way of saying neither would grow and grow without our [...]

APoem for You: Iyáaní (Spirit, Breath, Life)2021-09-21T13:41:33-04:00

A Poem for You: Audience


Audience Rachel Levitsky for Becca I don't know anything about the structure of rocks.  Only that I move them  away from where they were  to another location  closer in proximity to me. Collecting rocks is a habit  backed in desire. I suppose I trust  that my desire is true,  although I have doubted it as I've doubted all sorts of love— material attachment to objects  and object relations.  Mother for example. First best friend.  The poster from a museum  possessed by gaze and gender  seen in a country I now call to question, taken by a photographer, of a model  mid-gesture, [...]

A Poem for You: Audience2021-09-21T13:40:31-04:00
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