HeyJaredThe Rebel MFA Way
A fiercely honest, creatively radical space where writing meets healing, rebellion meets ritual, and storytelling becomes survival.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 8
- Latest publication
- Sep 28, 2026
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- Jul 6, 2026
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A Place Set at the Table (opens the original)
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The last essay ended in a city that doesn’t exist yet.San Francisco, 2048, in Starhawk’s The Fifth Sacred Thing. An army coming up from the south. And standing between the army and the city, a council made up largely of old women — women whose work is to listen and to dream — who meet the soldiers with a sentence instead of a weapon:There is a place set for you at our table, if you will choose to join us.Lesley — the member whose comment started all of this — predicted
She Was Always Alone (opens the original)
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After the last essay went out, one of my Sanctuary members and Rebel MFA readers, , left a comment I haven’t been able to put down. She said I could share it, so here it is, whole:I wonder where this story fits your analysis. What about a woman of a certain age who has survived the patriarchy, narcissism, and all the institutionalized oppression of women. What if she decides to live another thirty years on her own terms. Of course, she’s chastised and exiles herself to a lonely life in the woods
It Was Always the Shadow (opens the original)
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The last essay ended on a question I said I’d been avoiding in public for about three years: where in this culture is a woman’s dangerous power allowed to be fully visible, at full voltage, without anyone looking away?I told you there was one place.That place has always been the shadow.Horror is the door I came in through, so horror is the word I’ve been using lately… but the truth is — it’s so much bigger and broader than that.My own archive is accumulated evidence of the ways in
Prescribe This When (opens the original)
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In June I ended an essay by promising three things. One of them was this: that I’d trace Sharon Blackie’s model of metanarrative formation through the Myth Pharmacist framework and show you what it looks like when you actually run it.Then I didn’t. I wrote about other things for two months.I want to be honest about why, because the reason turns out to be the essay. I didn’t have the mechanism yet. I had the diagnosis — there is a story underneath the story, and it’s shaping what you think is pos
The Room Nobody Wants to Open (opens the original)
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The last essay ended with a question I couldn’t put down: if the source has been sealed this whole time, who’s been holding it in place?I expected that question to lead somewhere clean. A villain. A system with a face. Something I could point at and say: that. That’s what did it.Instead it led me to the room I’ve been avoiding since I started this doctorate. Not Bluebeard’s room — I’ve written that one. The room behind it. The on
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