family

On Fatherhood

When I was around six or seven, I discovered my father’s old comic books. He’s an archivist and his closet reflects this–it is a meticulously organized trove of his interests, packed away in folders, binders and shoeboxes. The calm, stacked neatness of it compelled me, reigning in what might have been, in the hands of […]

Writing With Children

There were army men in the bathtub when I stepped into it this morning. Why do we never read about things like this in the far-future worlds of space opera, or the misty-eyed sagas of fantasy? I picked them up when I was done and put them in a box for my son to retrieve […]