The Blue Of

When I first started my thesis, I intended for my finished project to be a compilation of poems that aims to reflect and reveal several repeating themes of our society's collective unconscious, such as the relationship between the physical and spiritual aspects of being and the representation of women's lives, organized religion,adolescence, and mental illness. I proposed writing a chapbook of poetry that reflects an exploration of, and sensitivity to, the human unconscious mind, fears, and desires. Consulting other works of surreal, lyric, and confessional poetry, I sought to personallydevelop as both a poet and a psychology student. I made a conscious effort to avoid trying to attach a specific 'meaning' to each poem. I understand that, in poetry, the reader is never entirely aware of exactly what the poet is trying to convey. All the reader knows is what he or she sees in a given poem and how he or she responds to that poem. However, through working on my thesis I discovered that, while meaning may not be intentional in the drafting process, developing what the poem meant to me was central to the process of revision. Furthermore, I realized that I unconsciously returned to specific themes across various poems, something that was not apparent to me until I re-read my entire collection ...

Coals

I decided to write an honors thesis to exercise and develop my abilities as a writer. I explored a number of different characters, narrative styles, and tones in order to discover my strengths and push my comfort level and boundaries. I attempted to place myself in the minds of a wide range of characters, and to expose intimate aspects of their thoughts and personalities to my readers.

Burning Skies: A Novella

Burning Skies is a seventy-page novella completed as an Honors Thesis in Creative Writing. The story is set in Los Angeles, California, during the 1992 riots surrounding the controversy over the beating of Rodney King by four white police officers. The story is toldthrough the perspectives of the four main characters: Erin, a woman who is four months pregnant with a baby she desperately wants; her husband David, who has moved the couple out to California so that he can pursue his dream of being a cinematographer; Abby, David’s deeplyreligious younger sister who has unexpectedly flown out to Los Angeles from her home in Indiana after discovering her husband’s infidelity; and Cameron, a black man training to be a pastor who Abby has befriended through her years of missionary work in Los Angeles.The novella follows the events of the riots as they break out all across the city and the personal dramas of each of the four main characters, looking at how the public interacts with theprivate and examining the ways in which explosions in the public and political sphere can ricochet into our private and personal lives. It is a story about the political and racial climate in Los Angeles in the early 1990s, but it is also a story about four human beings, about their needs and their desires, about their struggles to survive in an unpredictable world. The novella showcases the skills and techniques the author has learned after four years of studying fiction at Bucknell University; it can best be described as a work of realistic fiction.

Not in the Legends

In writing “Not in the Legends”, one of the images and concepts which constantly returned was that of pilgrimage. I began to write these poems while studying abroad in London, after having passed the previous semester in France and travelling around Europe. There was something in the repetition of sightseeing— walking six miles in Luxembourg to see the grave of General Patton, taking photographs of the apartment where Sylvia Plath ended her life, bowing before the bones of saints, searching through Père Lachaise for the grave of Théodore Gericault— which struck me as numinous and morbid. At the same time, I came to love living abroad and I grew discontent with both remaining and returning. I wanted the opportunity to live everywhere all the time and not have to choose between home and away. Returning from abroad, I turned my attention to the landscape of my native country. I found in the New England pilgrims a narrative of people who had left their home in search of growth and freedom. In these journeys I began to appreciate the significance of place and tried to understand what it meant to move from one place to another, how one chose a home, and why people searched for meaning in specific locations. The processes of moving from student to worker and from childhood to adulthood have weighed on me. I began to see these transitions towards maturity as travels to a different land. Memory and nostalgia are their own types of pilgrimage in their attempts to return to lost places, as is the reading of literature. These pilgrimages, real and metaphorical, form the thematic core of the collection. I read the work of many poets who came before me, returning to the places where the Canon was forged. Those poets have a large presence in the work I produced. I wondered how I, as a young poet, could earn my own place in the tradition and sought models in much the same way a painter studies the brushstrokes of a master. In the process, I have tried to uncover what it means to be a poet. Is it something like being a saint? Is it something like being a colonist? Or is to be the one who goes in search of saints and colonists? In trying to measure my own life and work based on the precedent, I have questioned what role era and generation have on the formation of identity. I focused my reading heavily on the early years of English poetry, trying to find the essence of the time when the language first achieved the transcendence of verse. In following the development of English poetry through Coleridge, John Berryman, and Allison Titus, I have explored the progression of those basic virtues in changing contexts. Those bearings, applied to my modern context, helped to shape the poetry I produced. Many of the poems in “Not in the Legends” are based on my own personal experience. In my recollections I have tried to interrogate nostalgia rather than falling into mere reminiscence. Rather than allowing myself poems of love and longing, I have tried to find the meaning of those emotions. A dominant conflict exists between adventure and comfort which mirrors the central engagement with the nature of being “here” or “there”. It is found in scenes of domesticity and wilderness as I attempt to understand my own simultaneous desire for both. For example, in “Canned Mangoes…” the intrusion of nature, even in a context as innocuous as a poem by Sir Walter Raleigh, unravels ordinary comforts of the domestic sphere. The character of “The Boy” from Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot proved such an interesting subject for me because he is one who can transcend the normal boundaries of time and place. The title suggests connections to both place and time. “Legends” features the dual meaning of both myths and the keys to maps. To propose something “Not in the Legends” is to find something which has no precedent in our histories and our geographies, something beyond our field of knowledge and wholly new. One possible interpretation I devised was that each new generation lives a novel existence, the future being the true locus of that which is beyond our understanding. The title comes from Keats’ “Hyperion, a Fragment”, and details the aftermath of the Titanomachy. The Titans, having fallen to the Olympians, are a representation of the passing of one generation for the next. Their dejection is expressed by Saturn, who laments: Not in my own sad breast, Which is its own great judge and searcher out, Can I find reason why ye should be thus: Not in the legends of the first of days… (129-132) The emotions of the conquered Titans are unique and without antecedent. They are experiencing feelings which surpass all others in history. In this, they are the equivalent of the poet who feels that his or her own sufferings are special. In contrast are Whitman’s lines from “Song of Myself” which serve as an epigraph to this collection. He contends for a sense of continuity across time, a realization that youth, age, pleasure, and suffering have always existed and will always exist. Whitman finds consolation in this unity, accepting that kinship with past generations is more important that his own individuality. These opposing views offer two methods of presenting the self in history. The instinct of poetry suggests election. The poet writes because he feels his experiences are special, or because he believes he can serve as a synecdoche for everyone. I have fought this instinct by trying to contextualize myself in history. These poems serve as an attempt at prosopography with my own narrative a piece of the whole. Because the earth abides forever, our new stories get printed over the locations of the old and every place becomes a palimpsest of lives and acts. In this collection I have tried to untangle some of those layers, especially my own, to better understand the sprawling legend of history.

The Daughters of Bridget McGhee

When Huxley proposed, Blythe imagined herself fifty years into the future at his funeral. He was such a good man, they’d say. Seventy-two is too young, they’d say. She’d nod and, she had imagined, remember this moment – them lounging in her bed during the early afternoon with the sunlight threatening to burst from behind the drawn shades, him lying on his side with his left arm anchored around her waist, and the tickle of his thumb as he traced circles on her bellybutton. She rubbed her nose against his neck and breathed. His scent was different from that of Walter. Huxley smelled of pears and basil. Walter smelled of leather and soap. She didn’t smell Walter intentionally, of course. He walked into the White Dog the prior day while she was drinking a mint-mocha cappuccino and studying for an exam on medical physiology. The wind whiffed his odor towards her. She didn’t look at him, but she couldn’t stop from inhaling. “People get married after college,” Huxley swung his right leg over and straddled her, forcing her to look at him. “It’s almost been a year since we graduated. It’s what we should do.” She had wondered if he could donate organs if he were seventy-two years old. Not his liver or heart or anything like that, of course, but maybe his eyes. It’d be a shame if they couldn’t preserve his eyes. She noticed them first: they were alert and misty blue, like Santa’s. But then she wondered if eye characteristics like color were even changed during cornea transplants. Walter had plain brown eyes. She hated brown eyes. She told people that she had brown eyes, because they were dark and no one ever looked close enough. Except Huxley. They were at dinner with mutual friends and were talking about eye color, and how they all wished that theirs were like those of the young Afghan girl on the 1985 cover of National Geographic.

Wild Violets

Wild Violets is an extended work of nonfiction that explores various themes related to loss, illness, and the nature of family. It’s very much a story of matriarchal connections. The narrative primarily traces the complicated but gratifying relationships between myself and the other women in my family—my maternal grandmother, my mother, and my two younger sisters.