HeyJaredGothic Quill
Gritty, honest writing about a family true crime and coming from a blue-collar background. Helping folks build authentic presence and a writing community. MFA from Brown / PhD Denver.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 5
- Latest publication
- Sep 24, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 6, 2026
Latest issues
Being a writer who didn’t see success early (opens the original)
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When I was growing up in an Amish community in the middle of nowhere, Iowa, I didn’t realize how much the slow and arcane way of living off the land would infiltrate my blood. It was an Old Order Amish community, one of the oldest settlements west of the Mississippi River, deeply entrenched in centuries-old traditions and practices. My family is not Amish, but we have always lived rurally. We appreciate a sense of freedom and being able to make it on our own out there. We’d listen to Johnny Cash
I struggled with the writing community for years. Then, I sought it. (opens the original)
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I’ll be running a First Draft Boot Camp starting in October, free for paid subscribers. We’ll be working on our books and learning how to build our authentic presence on social media using talking points from our work in progress.When I walked into my creative writing program at the age of twenty-five after years of carrying trays of beer and waiting tables in Iowa, I wanted this time to be different. My dad’s doctor had told him, mechanic’s kids don’t usually get into schools like that. Unfortu
Why I reinvented myself to become visible (opens the original)
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I remember the exact despairing moment. Or rather, it was a weekend. My birthday weekend. I was turning thirty-five and had been going through a real hard time at work. Maybe you know the feeling. I realized that the job would never give back what I was giving to it, and I had this hollow pit that told me I’d sunk way too much time worrying about being a perfect worker at the expense of my real passions. As thirty-five rolled around, I was unfulfilled. In all seriousness, I felt like a failure.
Craving Authenticity (opens the original)
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Lately I’ve been thinking of summers past, asleep inside the glow of The Twilight Zone in the crumbling yellow farmhouse where cornstalks waved outside the window’s warped glass and the cats feasted on field rats who feasted on poison. And despite the tired-of-it-here and the drifting, those were the nights. Real and vaguely prophetic. Tomato season. Dog Star. When ripe juices bleed.Highway 1 might as well have snaked off into darkness and ate me alive. Because even though everyone says it’s a c
When will your accomplishments be "enough"? (opens the original)
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Growing up, money was tight and we lived on the outskirts of town by the county dump. Every day meant trying to survive. Peers called me trash. Sometimes I was ashamed. Other times I was angry. I felt at odds at school, like I didn’t fit in or belong, and was often stressed by the inner and outer conflicts I was going through but couldn’t begin to acknowledge them, not to myself or anyone else. I was deeply, irrevocably sad. I didn’t think I mattered much. Teachers didn’t seem to expect me to do
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