Posts
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On Brutalism and Belonging
Last night I found myself with some friends at a bar near Boston City Hall, and, as always, I couldn’t stop staring. Most people hate it. They think it’s an eyesore, all angles and concrete, too stark and strange for a city built on cobblestones and history. In a neighborhood dotted with red-brick charm and…
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Not Every Poem Is a Product
I didn’t mean for anyone to read this poem. It wasn’t written to be published or submitted or even shared. It started, simply, as an exercise; one of those quiet, necessary moments where the goal isn’t brilliance but movement. A way to stretch the muscles of language and rhythm, to keep my ear tuned and…
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Why I Write (and Read, and Read, and Read)
Before I ever dreamed of writing something worth reading, I fell in love with books, with characters, with sentences that felt like spells. I have always believed that great writing begins with deep reading. Not just wide reading, though that helps, but reading that lingers. Reading that haunts you a little. Reading that shapes how…
Samantha Chapman 