Fourth Grade: On Learning Confidence

Everyone from my mother to my great aunt to my soccer coach to my teachers hyped up my potential, and, I now believed, every one of them had lied. “Chase your dreams,” they told me. “You’re special.” No wonder I didn’t think the rules applied to me. I had a special sense of purpose on the inside. A feeling that maybe I was a bit better than the rest. That I could do no wrong. This failure shattered that illusion and sent the artist in me retreating inwards, lying in the fetal position deep in the back of my heart.

On Writing: An Introduction to The Lit Flamingo

By Lyndsay Hall There’s an afternoon I attribute often to my becoming a writer, though it happened eighteen years after I started writing. I lived in a Miami Beach high-rise called The Flamingo with a man I wouldn’t recognize as pure trash for another month. The windows glowed teal over the harbor, and inside was…