Life
Having My Tonsils Removed
Anne Bernays and Pamela Painter — What if? Writing Exercises for Fiction Writers prompts — The Exercise:Using the present tense, write an early memory in the first person. This should be something that happened before you were seven. Use only those words and perceptions appropriate to a young child. "My father looks confused" won't do because a five-year-old is incapable of this articulation. "My father has a funny look on his face" is fine. The memory should be encapsulated in a short period of time -no more than an hour or so - and should happen in one place. Don't interpret or analyze; simply report it as you would a dream. When you can't remember details, make them up; you may heighten the narrative so long as you remain faithful to the meaning of the memory - the reason you recalled it in the first place. Limit: 550 words.The Objective:A fiction writer should be able to present a narrative without nudging the reader or in any way explaining what she has written. The narrative should speak for itself. In using a child's voice you are forced not to analyze but merely to tell the story, unembellished.
By Denise E Lindquistabout a year ago in Writers
My Journey from Feeling Like a Loser to Finding Happiness
t started in middle school. I was the “fat kid,” the easy target. Every insult stung, but it was the words that stuck with me most — "You're a loser, Ken!" They weren’t just teasing me. They were defining me. And I believed them. At home, things weren’t better. My mom was strict and cold. Her way was the only way. I couldn’t do anything right, and every mistake earned me yelling, not understanding. So I stopped trying. I shut down. I let the label of “loser” sink into my skin. In school, I struggled to focus. I had friends, sure — we’d hang out, watch movies, shoot hoops — but I never truly felt seen. High school came and went. Same story. College was just more loneliness. I didn’t know how to connect. I didn’t know how to like myself. I tried therapy, once or twice. But if I didn’t connect right away, I bailed. I told myself it wouldn’t help — that nothing could. Truth was, I wasn’t ready. You have to want change more than you fear it. I did find something I loved: TV news. I worked hard, and I was good at it — but I never let myself feel proud. I’d obsess over every mistake, beat myself up for errors that weren’t even mine. That’s what anxiety does — it turns whispers into screams. Eventually, I got fired. And that broke me. I was angry — at myself, at life, at God. I’d yell at Him: Why do you hate me? Why can’t I just be normal? Loved? Successful? Of course, I never got an answer. At least, not the one I expected. Until one day, I did. While job searching, I started hitting the gym just to keep busy. It gave my days structure. Then I reconnected with an old friend who had just opened a gym with his wife. I stopped by to check it out. We caught up, and the next day he emailed me: "Ken, I can’t pay you much, but if you want to help around the gym, you can work out here for free." It felt like a lifeline. I said yes. The gym changed everything. I still battled self-doubt — the voice calling me a loser hadn’t shut up yet — but I was moving. I was doing something. I was surrounded by motivated people. And slowly, something shifted. I decided to get certified as a personal trainer. It wasn’t part of my plan, but for the first time in years, I had direction. Studying was tough, but I pushed through. I passed. And still… that voice lingered. Then came that morning. I woke up — and everything was different. I can’t explain it. Maybe I finally got good sleep. Maybe something in my brain finally rewired. But I felt light. Energetic. Positive. Like I could actually do this. I told my friend, now my boss, and he said something I’ll never forget: "Ken, you made a choice. We’re proud of you." That’s when it clicked. I was choosing this — the gym, the mindset, the progress. Happiness wasn’t something that magically appeared. It was something I chose. And I keep choosing it, every single day. I’m not cured. Anxiety still knocks. Depression still whispers. But now, I know how to respond. I have tools. I have support. I have purpose. Here’s what’s helped me most: Daily exercise Eating real, nourishing food Drinking water (seriously, hydration matters) Getting consistent sleep Journaling to unpack my thoughts Meditating, even just for five minutes And finding 3 wins every day — even small ones. Wins train your brain to look for the good. Now I’m married, running my own fitness business, and helping others navigate the same darkness I once drowned in. So if you’re reading this and feeling stuck — like nothing will ever change — please hear me: You are not a loser. You are not broken. You are not alone. You’re just not done yet. Happiness isn’t about perfection. It’s about momentum. It’s about choosing, again and again, to show up for yourself — even when your mind tells you not to. We all deserve to be happy.
By Israr khanabout a year ago in Writers
The Immune System's Guardians: Trio Wins 2025 Nobel Prize in Medicine
The Nobel Assembly at the Karolinska Institute in Sweden has awarded the 2025 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine to three scientists for their groundbreaking work in understanding the immune system. Mary E. Brunkow, Fred Ramsdell, and Shimon Sakaguchi were honored for "their discoveries concerning peripheral immune tolerance" .
By Ashley Scottabout a year ago in Writers
Columbus Day: A American Holiday's Complicated Legacy
Every second Monday of October, a holiday arrives on the US calendar that prompts parades in some cities, closures of federal offices, and deep reflection on the nation's history. Columbus Day is a unique American institution, one that has evolved from a patriotic celebration into a subject of intense national conversation .
By Ashley Scottabout a year ago in Writers
Maybe I still see rockets in the sky. Top Story - October 2025.
I remember looking to the sky in my youth and thinking every plane a rocket, every bird a dragon, every wind a whistle, light and high. The trees would sway in the breeze and I would sway with them, the connection between us something I could feel in my bones, but never say aloud. I never said very much then, but I felt it all: the immensity of this world as a child within it. I remember pulling back coarse branches and parting prickly bushes; I remember how my hands felt in the mud, grass tickling against my palms, my fingers caked with dirt. I remember the feel of the smooth, cool rocks, the wriggling of worms, the smell of rain in the air. I remember my early winters, bundled in jackets and scarves, lying face first in the snow, wishing never to leave.
By angela hepworthabout a year ago in Writers
The Last Letter from the Sky. AI-Generated.
1. The Town That Waited for Rain In a small desert town where clouds were rare visitors, people had learned to live without hope of rain. The ground was cracked like broken glass, and the air shimmered with heat. The wells were nearly dry, and so were the hearts of those who lived there.
By Charlotte Cooperabout a year ago in Writers
A Senior’s Guide to TikTok:
It’s never too late for seniors to join TikTok and start creating their own videos! With more older adults embracing social media, TikTok offers a welcoming, fun, and easy-to-use environment for sharing stories, building connections, and expressing creativity online. Read on for a step-by-step guide to setting up, creating content, and thriving as a senior on TikTok. This guide is optimized with helpful keywords like “senior TikTok tips,” “older adults social media,” “beginner video creation,” “safe video sharing,” and “grandparent influencers.”
By Ms. Phillipsabout a year ago in Writers
The Relief of Not Knowing. AI-Generated.
I had a moment this morning—a small, jarring flash of clarity—while waiting for the coffee machine to warm up. I was scrolling through my phone, consuming three different news headlines, a dozen Instagram stories, and a complex article about macroeconomic trends, all before my first sip.
By Charlotte Cooperabout a year ago in Writers
