Disenchanting Fantasy and Fruitful Disillusionment

I don’t read fantasy anymore. I used to spend hours on end sitting in my bed with my nose buried in fantasy books. I loved the magical world penned into existence by J.K. Rowling, mythical creatures from Brandon Mull, mystic adventures of Obert Skye’s books, and the epic stories from J.R.R. Tolkien or C.S. Lewis. …

Unresolved, But Resolving

My bedroom floor is a boulevard of broken resolutions every December 31st. Its detritus is varied, but connected: the calendar I bought especially for my GetFit exercise plan—it featured cats and monkeys doing yoga in outrageously ugly sweatsuits, which so inspired me (if they can bend and stretch, certainly I can try to touch my …