HeyJaredfurther up & further in
I write a lot about grief, hope, death, resurrection, and hobbling towards our real home (but don't worry, I am also fun and chill!).
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 5
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- Sep 24, 2026
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- Jul 10, 2026
Latest issues
it’s my party, I’ll read five poems if I want to (opens the original)
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On Sunday, Daniel and I hosted friends for an evening of reading poems and passages from our favorite books. Thirteen of us settled in around the fire, taking turns delivering excerpts from Orthodoxy, Lonesome Dove, East of Eden, The Road, The Great Gatsby, even Frog and Toad. We shared poems from Shakespeare, Donne, Wordsworth, Wendell Berry, Malcolm Guite, and more. <a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!9y5-!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressiv
notes from an aspiring novelist (opens the original)
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I have had many dream jobs. For years of my childhood I wanted to be an Animal Cop. I imagined setting my cowboy hat down, sprinting after a wrongdoer, and laying him out on the ground. Maybe I’d have some line like, “Don’t mess with Texas. Don’t mess with dogs. Or you’ll have to mess with me.” <a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!ACJI!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimage
"Can I leave too?" (opens the original)
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“L is leaving today to live with her mommy. We’ll be sad and miss her, but it’s good to be with your mommy.” This is the refrain I repeated to my two-year-old throughout the morning on her foster sister’s last day with us. Sweet L was getting picked up by the caseworker after lunch, and would be leaving our home after nine months together. “Can I leave too?” my daughter responded after a while. “Like L?” I suppose I may have made it sound a little too exciting. , a fellow foster mom I’ve connect
missed connections: cringe edition (opens the original)
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“Missed Connection” posts litter the internet: people seeking to be reunited with a stranger they crossed paths with for a fleeting moment, before fate or timidity whisked them away and robbed them of the chance of a face to face encounter. It’s a meet-cute without the meet, leaving you to turn to the only recourse available that could possibly rekindle the vibes: posting on the internet, and hoping the good people of earth will come to your aid and connect you to your charming, missing stranger
writing round-up 6 (opens the original)
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Howdy friends!As someone who once sat in a restaurant crying about the Founding Fathers and all they accomplished, I hope my fellow American readers had a fun and maybe emotional semiquincentennial.To you new subscribers seeing me in your email for the first time: it’s me—the one who wrote about my speech impediments! You may be surprised to find that my writing ranges from potential skull-chopping surgeries into the realm of grief, hope, faith, and motherhood, and the ways that life continues t
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