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A Mexican English major who wants to write whatever she feels like it. FICTION | POETRY | LIFESTYLE | WRITING | WORK
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I wrote a very personal piece for the Medium Writing Challege about my complicated relationship with my grandmother after my father died. I had been working on it for a while, a few friends had already helped me edit it, and I was actually feeling very proud of the result. Finally expressing my emotional contrariety brought me peace and satisfaction, but…

I couldn’t bring myself to publish it.

I didn’t make my grandmother look great in that piece. …


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Maybe you learned about it on Pinterest, YouTube, or your quirky friend.

I found out about it on TikTok, with gen-Z young adults promising I’ll be able to finally have my crush text me, get a raise, or just live my best life. Celebrities and renowned people like Nikola Tesla, Oprah, Jim Carrey, Lady Gaga, and plenty others swear by it so it really must work right?

As a burnout, working college student, any “like hack” is always welcome. However, when I started going a little bit into it, I was resistant to give it a go.

Here’s the thing…


Photo by the Ana García LdeC (Author).

“I love you,” my grandmother said to me on her deathbed.

A list of the possible answers that went through my head:

  • OK.
  • Thanks (?).
  • I love you, too.

“Oh, grandma,” I managed as I ran my fingers over her bruised forearm, her dried up veins. It occurred to me I’d never really touched her, just the few mandatory kisses on the cheek, or the times I’d offer my arm so she could get in the car. Her skin was soft, cold, and so thin it scared me it would rip and cease to contain her. My answer seemed good…


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I think we can overcome writer’s block by remembering F. Scott Fitzgerald’s famous quote:

You don’t write because you want to say something, you write because you have something to say.” — F. Scott Fitzgerald

We have something to say when that something moves us, sparks a new perspective or triggers a conflicting thought that continues to unravel within in us for days afterwards; in other words, you feel compelled to write when your subject produces an emotional response within you.

This leads me to present you with a strategy that specifically targets this matter: poetry. I am aware some…


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You are the kind of person whose eyes scan hearts to grow into, and when I kissed you I did it because I wanted to know what it was like to kiss someone who I know is going to die soon.

There was even some candle wax in your cologne and your lips blossomed on mine as those white flowers they use brighten funerals. This honey doesn’t taste like fear, tastes of years. I did caress anticipation in your arms, and the soft resignation strings tangled between my fingers as when I ran them through your hair.

It wasn’t until…


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I thought I’d die the moment it happened, but I didn’t. On January 18th of 2018, at 12:30 pm, my dad, one of the funnest, most caring and wonderful people to walk on earth, passed away after battling non-Hodgkin lymphoma. He was 50 years old.

My mom, my sister and I got to spend the night before in his room to talk, sing to him, make sure he was as comfortable as possible, and say our goodbyes.


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A little bit about that cringey time in my life: I was a teen throughout 2007–2016, which means I wasn’t cool like this Gen-Z’s nowadays; I grew up romanticizing Skins, emptying the black eyeliner on my eyelid, plugged to my i-Pod nano blasting Avril Lavigne and Green Day. But I also loved reading (Twilight hit me hard), and adored Jo March and those Rory Gilmore vibes, and even if I didn’t know a thing about poetry, I started writing it.

They gave us a little black notebook at school, and our teacher encouraged us to write our thoughts and any…


Maybe you just haven’t found the right poem yet.

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I don’t think I really started loving Poetry as a whole until I was studying English Lit at university. Of course there were a few poems I liked, but only because some teachers had taught me how to read and understand that particular poem; however, when you’d leave me alone with a poem I’d get frustrated in understanding what it said and what the big fuss about poetry was about.

I finally became a true, loyal, obsessive poetry fanatic, but it was a bumpy road. I realized I had dived right into difficult poems (The Waste Land, I’m looking at…


When I was in highschool my nightmares started getting worse. I’d been having them for a while, but it got to the point that I feared falling asleep like I was living in a low-budget version of A Nightmare on Elm Street. My stress got worse, I was tired all the time, and I would spend the rest of the day genuinelly disturbed by the things I dreamt. You’ve probably have had those dreams too, the ones that make you jolt awake crying. …


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Copywriting sounded like a good idea when they offered me the position: I had some experience in marketing, I’d been working for the brand in question for a bit, and I love writing. I took this as an opportunity to explore a new writing genre, but it turned out to be more of a challenge than I expected.

Here’s the thing: I like big sentences, the ones that get all tangled with beautiful words that don’t always seem to make sense, but the writer keeps going until it all connects, and unravels with a brilliant conclusion. …

Ana Garcia LdeC

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