Autobiography
Why Write?
For as long as I can remember my fingers have itched to put words on paper. I have drawers teeming with notebooks filled with half-formed stories and characters who exist only in my imagination. Ever since the third grade when I wrote my first epic story, The Toilet Zone, about aliens who invade a house through a magical conduit in the sewers, I have wanted to be an author. I have literally spent hundreds of hours twisting words into fantasy worlds over the past four decades of my life. Four decades of clinging to a dream and what do I have to show for it? A callus on my right middle finger the size of Nebraska, a mild case of carpal tunnel syndrome, and enough disappointment to fill the ocean. In an attempt to reinvigorate my passion for writing I began entering short stories to challenges on Vocal ten months ago. A dozen stories in and I've had one like, one positive comment, eleven total reads, and earned a whopping $0.08. So now, I ask myself, why haven't I had any success yet and why do I keep chasing this dream?
By A. J. Schoenfeld3 years ago in Chapters
I Was Somebody’s Dusty Son. Content Warning.
At the heart of my adolescent turmoil, during those precarious years of middle school, there exists a chapter of my life that has remained— inscribed with indelible ink. To be honest every year leading up to, and since has had its own stand out moments. This is just a chapter I’ve often hesitated to revisit— not solely because of its intrinsic pain but because of the irrevocable mark it left on my self-perception.
By Dan-O Vizzini3 years ago in Chapters
Slice of Life: The Pizza Boy's Journey
Once upon a time in the bustling city of Brooklyn, there lived a young man named Tony. He wasn't a typical 20-year-old trying to find his place in the world. Tony was the "pizza boy." This wasn't just an ordinary title; It was a badge of honor in his family, passed down through the generations.
By MD Arbaz Hussain3 years ago in Chapters
Drew, unspoken love
October 30th, 2022 Drew, It’s been 5 days since I ate. That means it’s been five days since you left me. Your heart went into a cardiac arrest, whatever that is, and it stopped. You stopped breathing too and your life ended in that moment. What you probably didn’t realize would happen, is my life ending as well. Actually, that would have been much easier- if I just died with you. Instead, you left me heartbroken and terrified of my life without you. I didn’t die that day, but my life ended.
By Martyna Dearing3 years ago in Chapters
A Month on Skid Row
In February 1972, I was in the fourth year towards a Commerce degree at McGill University in Montreal. I was struggling and my grades were poor (involvement with campus politics had become a huge distraction), so when my friend Tony asked if I wanted to take time off and go to California with him, I jumped at the chance. "You bet!" I cried.
By Marco den Ouden3 years ago in Chapters
Love’s Canvas: Our Story
"Can love ever suddenly burst into existence, or does it quietly mature within the heart over time? Perhaps it's akin to a crystal-clear liquid within an unfamiliar vessel, evolving its essence while its appearance remains unchanged. I'm uncertain about the alchemy of love, but someone entered my life like an unexpected storm, and I'm eager to narrate that tale"
By Noor Mohammad3 years ago in Chapters
The Siren's Call (And the breaking of My limitations)
I had never seen the Atlantic Ocean like this before. Rich blue waves crashing against rocky cliffs and arches, while small Iberian hares munched on the wild grass that rippled along the winding hills where a single paved road ventured through. My face stared inches away from the glass window, mesmerized by the scenic views surrounding the little black car I sat in. My Uber driver, Adao, sang a Portuguese song on the radio in a low mumble to himself.
By Amelia Carter 3 years ago in Chapters
