Words used to arrive like guests; they were expected, announced, and received with care. Today they tumble in uninvited, coatless and loud, demanding attention the moment they appear. We live in a culture of reply, where speed substitutes for insight, and where the pause that once did the quiet work of refinement has been mistaken for weakness. Yet every meaningful sentence still begins in the...
The Lost Art of Thinking Before Speaking
At the Inkstand
Every writer needs a place to set down their pen. For some, it is a desk worn smooth by years of ink and thought; for others, it is a quiet room where a lamp glows past midnight. For me, it is here: The Inkstand. This space will not be confined to one genre, nor hemmed in by a single theme. Some days I will weigh in on the affairs of our nation, where politics marches loud and history whispers in...
