We recently announced our WORK-IN-PROGRESS winner! She’ll be interviewed here soon. Congratulations, Angie Curneal Palsak!

As a token of gratitude to subscribers and contributions to Unleash, we’d love for you to join us in a Creative Resilience circle on March 28th 2-3 p.m. ET. This is a free event made possible due to supporters of The Resilient Creative and Unleash Lit.

Theme: Creative Potluck - Bring work you’d like to read, or a poem/quote/prompt/idea that inspires you. We’ll share in the creative bounty.

Agenda:

30 min intros and sharing

20 min writing

10 min sharing

This is about feeding each other creatively, potluck-style.

If you’re interested/available in March, RSVP here. https://luma.com/4sjqt6yz

Our next event will focus on ekphrasis and feature two contributors, Alex Stolis and Catherine Arra. RSVP to our June 19th event here. https://luma.com/zjaejkzl

(We will limit space to keep this an intimate group.)

Wishing you prolific days and creative clarity until then!!

Jen

Director / Founder

Unleash, The Resilient Creative

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I dreamed I abandoned a gibberish talking squirrel-sized orange creature. Walking away, I could hear him scurrying behind me, chittering on and on about something, his voice dropping and rising as he hopped down the curb. I couldn’t get away.

On my teaching nights, I text my husband as soon as I get on the bus to give him time to leave home and meet me at the bus stop. I look for him, crossing the street, standing on the sidewalk. The back door opens, and I leap out for a hug. He puts my hand in his coat pocket, and we walk. I tell him about my day. We often walk an extra block so I can finish my stories, sometimes it takes two.

I saw one of those Instagram reels where a man impersonates his wife, poking fun at the fact that she doesn’t have any girlfriends to talk to. She slams her Stanley cup on the counter and recounts her day in excruciating detail. He makes noncommittal sounds and when she stops to catch her breath, he says, “That’s craaaaaazy,” and she starts up again.

I started teaching flash essay in-person and ironically, the course description is full of meandering sentences about how to be concise. In the first class, I spent quite a while praising Brenda Miller’s exquisite flash, how we can breathe life into a story through negative space, in what is said, and what isn’t, and how run-on sentences can speed up the pace, if done right, and yes you can break the rules of grammar if doing so would carry the story forward and not just to break something.

It’s easier to talk when we’re walking. We stop here and there, observe a rabbit chewing in the dark, shine our phone flashlight inside a free little library, pick up a peculiar shaped leaf, time ourselves to run in between two cycles of a sprinkler. All the while, I can’t stop talking, trying to convey how I felt about this and that, and asking questions. So many questions. When I start to think I should stop, he says, “tell me more” and squeezes my hand.

I’m the kind of person who ends a phone conversation by saying “And one more thing…” When mom drives away, she rolls down the front passenger window and we continue to talk until the honk behind her makes us say goodbyes.

I am fortunate enough to have a few friends who appreciate the written word as much as I do, who respond to my epic emails, and the PS and PPS on the back of my snail mail.

What does it mean to be self-contained? Someone asked me recently in context of creative nonfiction. Essays are curated exhibits of our lives, searching for meaning among the fragments of who we once were.

The little creature was relentless. His words seemed to outrun his little feet, tripping over himself, getting his paws dirty, propelled by the sheer determination to tell me something. I picked him up, feeling his hummingbird heart beating against my chest, going on and on. I don’t know what he said. It sounded like it meant everything and the least I could do is hold it close.

Olga Katsovskiy, writer/editor/educator, works in healthcare and is a writing instructor at the Cambridge Center for Adult Education and Writers in Progress. She serves as Managing Editor & Associate Creative Nonfiction Editor at JMWW, CNF Editor at Minerva Rising Press, and reader at Reckon Review. Her craft essays and creative nonfiction have appeared in the Brevity Blog, Pithead Chapel, Short Reads, true magazine, and elsewhere. For more: theweightofaletter.com

Have a work in progress? Consider submitting to our WIP Award.

(So cool, right?!)

Aside from some writing, Jen and I have been engaging in some serious brainstorming and I thought I would share a few things:

1. Firstly, our Work-in-Progress Award is closing soon! This is a great opportunity for those that have a work in progress on the go and are looking for some support. The Unleash WIP Award offers writers support in the amount of $500 to supplement costs to support the completion of a book-length work of fiction, nonfiction, or poetry. Writers will receive editorial feedback, coaching meetings, and an excerpt/interview feature here in Unleash Lit.

2. Next, we’d like to introduce the Accountability and Resilience Group! You are invited: Join our Creative Resilience and Accountability Circle on July 11^th at 3 p.m. PT, 6 p.m. ET (1 hour). Founder Jen Knox will lead our first session (30 minutes intros/check-in/goal-setting and 30 minutes book discussion). We will also focus on the book Letters to a Young Poet by Rilke (don’t worry if you haven’t read it!). Check out the latest here.

3. And finally, we’ve got a pretty awesome online event planned for the fall, so make sure you take advantage of our early bird pricing and get this on your calendars! We have curated a bevy of incredible teaching artists who are looking forward to meeting you in October.

Stay tuned for more awesomeness to come!

Ashley Holloway

A hotly debated topic amongst many a writing circle, the Oxford comma, also known as the serial comma, is the comma that follows a list of three or more things. Essentially, it’s the last comma in a list. Writers who support a minimalist, streamlined approach argue that it creates clutter, while proponents of its use reason it provides clarity, thus reducing ambiguity. The question remains: is it even necessary?

Consider, for example, the following sentences: I had lunch with my parents, Desi and Lucy, versus, I had lunch with my parents, Desi, and Lucy. Who did you have lunch with? Your parents, named Desi and Lucy, or your parents, Desi, and Lucy. The difference is a reservation for three or five. And the maître d’ will want to know.

So, the answer whether to use the Oxford comma or not is both yes and no (not helpful, I know). Depending on the context of your writing, you may need to adhere to a style guide. For example, the AP stylebook, which is mostly used in journalism and media in the US (in Canada, the Canadian Press Stylebook is used), doesn’t usually require it, but the Chicago Manual of Style, used in academic settings related to the humanities, social sciences, and history does (see what I did there?). Likewise, a workplace may have its own style guide, depending on the context.

Ultimately, unless the context dictates that a style guide is to be followed, the decision to use the Oxford comma or not lies with the writer. With that in mind, clarity should dictate where and when it is used. Consistency is also important, as is personal preference. When in doubt as to whether an Oxford comma is needed, simply try rewording the sentence; it might be the case that using it or not using it still creates ambiguity, and rewording may avoid the issue altogether.

So, the next time you find yourself asking whether a comma is necessary, let clarity and consistency be your guide.

Self-proclaimed logophile and devourer of books, Ashley Holloway is a nurse, writer, and editor who teaches writing classes and healthcare leadership in Calgary, AB. She writes in a variety of genres with work appearing across Canada and the US and has co-authored three books. Ashley serves as Editorial Director at Unleash Creatives and her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.

Join us October 24 & 25, 2025 for two days of connection and creativity while learning from some kickass writers!

Jen Knox (JK): Hi, Khanh! We’re thrilled to learn more about An Artist’s Legacy, but first, let’s hear more about you. Tell us a little about you and what brought you to writing.

Khanh Ha (KH): Good morning, Jen! And my warm thank-you for this author interview.

I was born in Hue, Vietnam and came from a mandarin’s lineage. I left Vietnam before the Vietnam war ended to attend college at Ohio University. I studied Journalism; but what brought me to writing was the urge to write ever since I was a child. There was no plan and there was no “why.” It’s a passion and it’s innate.

JK: You are incredibly prolific, Khanh. Meanwhile, you don’t sacrifice quality for this pace of output. Your writing wins prestigious awards (including the 2024 Unleash Prize), and you’ve consistently gathered incredible reviews. How do you consistently write without sacrificing quality?

KH: I’m happiest when I write. In the pre-dawn quiet, I’m completely in my own world and I’m grateful to my family for giving me a blessed environment to write in every day. My family love nourishes me. And love is the oil that erases friction. I believe that was said by Friedrich Nietzsche.

As writer, we know that a novel starts with scenes and characters. I only begin writing my novel after I have developed an affinity with my characters. I take time to write each scene to its fullest, because I know it will breed the next scene. You do not hurry when you write a novel. William Faulkner said, “A writer must write from his heart out of love and honor and pity and pride and compassion and sacrifice.” Those who write about them with all their soul and compassion have influenced me as another writer. And I surely hope I can uphold such truth.

“I only begin writing my novel after I have developed an affinity with my characters. I take time to write each scene to its fullest, because I know it will breed the next scene.”

JK: Where do you write, and what inspires you?

KH: I always pick a room with a view; but while I’m writing the window shade is halfway down, only a view of sky visible. If you are an aspiring writer, write as the only writer that exists, none before you, none after you. No writer or author can inspire you to write. The writing desire must exist in you even before you are aware of it. It might demand to be heard before your maturity has arrived. But I believe that writers have influence on one another. Influence, not inspiration. The only type of non-written art would inspire me are music and movies. They must be inspiring or I’d rather listen to silence and watch emptiness.

JK: Your writing is often described as lyrical and evocative. How do you approach crafting such immersive prose, and how many times do you revise?

KH: I must have the first sentence right. Words, cadence in that first sentence must be perfect. I torture myself to death before I start a novel, or a new chapter, on how to get that sentence written the most truthfully, i.e, no falsity in the voice, or in the cadence.

On revision: I would reread what I wrote the day before until I heard a voice in my head, Enough! Then I move on to writing the next scene, or the next chapter. But I must fine-tune what I wrote yesterday, and that includes repairing the characters. I do it when my mind is still fresh with the scenes and the characters of that chapter, or that scene. However, you must be unbiased (which is hard toward what you’ve just written), detached (which is harder from what you’ve just built), so you can see your own creative flaws. Once the novel is finished, I distance myself from it and redirect my thoughts to something else. By the time I revisit the manuscript, I can read it without remembering what I have written. It allows me to cut scenes without hesitation; it helps me detect false notes. After such a drastic revision, I would shelf the manuscript until I feel ready to read it again. And it would take two serious revisions before I start finding a home for it.

JK: Were there any books, artists, or literary influences that inspired you while writing An Artist’s Legacy?

KH: No, there was none.

What drove me to write this novel was my wish to bring out the unheard voice of those who fought at Dien Bien Phu against the French Union. And what speaks for them was the words from Jules Roy, which I chose as epigraph for my book. “They agreed to die and to serve as manure for future harvests which would no longer belong to a few mandarins but to the people. . . . They all belong to the same body of humiliated human beings ready to give their lives for honor to the same suffering church marching toward victory. And if that victory was only a fresh servitude whose evils they could not foresee, they had at least chosen it themselves.”

JK: What is your all-time favorite book or story?

KH: For a book, it has to be The Man Who Fell to Earth by Walter Tevis; and for a short story it’s The Convict by James Lee Burke. The novel depicts man as the perpetual purveyor of evil; and the short story reveals man’s frailty and collective helplessness when it comes to race versus man’s conscience.

JK: What challenges did you face while writing An Artist’s Legacy and other titles?

KH: Finding the voice—the author’s true voice. Writers have influences on one another. Faulkner, Hemingway, Cormac McCarthy have influences on me. But when you have found your own voice, then nothing can take it away from you. When you have your own voice, you are IT, a mature writer.

JK: What have I not asked that you’d like to add?

KH: My motto in writing is “Less Is More.”

Writing is much like acting. When an actor overacts, he loses his viewers; likewise when a writer overwrites, he loses his readers. The art of writing is in part self-control. You control the pace, the emotion. To put it differently, you must exert self-restraint in the pathos so your readers have room to participate, to see, to feel what you intend for them. As a writer, you should pin a piece of paper in front of you when you write, and on that piece are three letters: LIM. Less Is More. Additionally, it’s always best to Resist the Urge to Explain. Another three letters: RUE. And Ernest Hemingway did it best.

Thanks, Khanh. Please share a little about where readers can find you.

I have a website and a blog.

https://authorkhanhha.jigsy.com/

https://authorkhanhha.blogspot.com/

And thank you, Jen, for being a wonderful interviewer. It’s been my pleasure to have this opportunity to exchange writing ideas with you and share with readers.

About the Author

Award-winning author Khanh Ha is a ten-time Pushcart nominee. He is the recipient of the Sand Hills Prize for Best Fiction, The Robert Watson Literary Prize, The Orison Anthology Award, The James Knudsen Prize, The C&R Press Fiction Prize, The EastOver Fiction Prize, The Blackwater Press Fiction Prize, The Gival Press Novel Award, The Red Hen Press Fiction Award, The Unleash Press Book Prize, and The Next Generation INDIE Book Award.

Understanding your audience is integral to writing for children. As such, it’s important to ensure the theme, storyline, vocabulary, writing style, and sentence length are aligned with and suitable for the target audience. Children use characters in picture books to help them understand the world around them and how they fit into it. Living vicariously through the characters helps children understand acceptable versus unacceptable behaviour. While it isn’t necessary to include a moral lesson or have the protagonist experience a complex personal journey, characters in picture books often learn a life lesson or virtue as part of the storyline.

Adult fiction generally has layers of plot and subplots. Writing for children requires a much narrower focus and a simple, linear plot. Whether you are writing for adults or kids, a typical story arc consists of an exposition, an inciting incident that causes a rising action, a climax at the midpoint, the falling action, and denouement (thank you, Freytag!). But, in contrast to adult fiction, the inciting incident occurs much sooner, and the climax occurs later in children’s fiction. The ending should also present a satisfying resolution. This, combined with the strategic use of tension helps to hold the reader’s attention.

The Rule of Three is also commonly used in children’s fiction, where a protagonist typically faces three challenges before prevailing. This storytelling device and rhetorical technique supports the idea that things that occur in threes tend to be more engaging and satisfying. For example, a character who solves a problem on the first try is not very interesting. Further, repeated attempts to solve a problem (i.e. three) demonstrate perseverance. This creates likeable characters that readers want to see succeed.

With children’s fiction, it’s important to draw the reader in right from the start. Use literary devices such as repetition, onomatopoeia, and alliteration to help with engagement, and avoid long blocks of text or dialogue. Illustrations can be leveraged to help tell parts of the story, along with a good balance between dialogue and exposition. Creating vivid, relatable characters that are slightly older than the target audience is also a good technique to keep readers engaged; kids are more interested in what bigger kids are doing.

While there are many do’s and don’ts, the biggest tip in writing for children is to read children’s fiction. This will help you discern who your target age group is, what kinds of stories are being told, and how to frame the language appropriately. And in reality, perhaps immersing ourselves in a world where learning to share and include others is something we could all use a little help with these days.

About the Author:

Self-proclaimed logophile and devourer of books, Ashley Holloway is a nurse, writer, and editor who teaches writing classes and healthcare leadership in Calgary, AB. She writes in a variety of genres with work appearing across Canada and the US and has co-authored three books. Ashley serves as Editorial Director at Unleash Creatives and her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.

Join us on October 24/25, 2025 for the Unleash Creativity Conference. Register now for early bird rates!

Plot arcs might seem irrelevant when writing reports or essays, but they enhance every type of writing. Tailored for the human psyche, the classic plot structure excels at hooking our attention: fiction achieves this by captivating our emotional investment through characters and struggles, while nonfiction achieves this by hooking our intellectual investment through concepts and arguments. Let’s explore this a little deeper.

First, you’ll start with a setup or an inciting incident (or both!). The setup is a simple introduction to your topic and prepares your reader for the dive. The inciting incident details the purpose of your paper in the form of your argument, thesis, or key question. Even if your piece is educational and contains no argument, goading the reader with a question—with a call to intellectual action—is key in hooking their interest.

Next is the rising action. The rising action provides your reader the crucial information they need to understand your topic and argument. By the end of the rising action, your reader should comprehend the basics and be forming an opinion on, or interest in, your argument.

The midpoint is the middle. Here, you’ll reveal unexpected information that either supports your argument or, better yet, counters it. This revelation builds tension and challenges your reader, which is key in retaining their intellectual investment and attention.

The rising tension follows that revelation. You’ll share more complicated information to support or challenge the midpoint, and using constant questions—or obstacles—will engage your readers, locking them to the page.

The tension cumulates into the crisis-climax, which is best described as the final fight to persuade your reader. Bolstering your facts, you’ll battle the toughest arguments against your theory—and, given your reader is now familiar with your topic, you don’t have to hold back the complexity of your information. By the end of the climax, the outcome of your original argument or question should be clear.

Once the crisis-climax is over, the denouement debuts. The denouement is a reflection, a “what now?”, and this means you shouldn’t have to add information or explain your results; it provides you the opportunity to point your reader in a new direction.

How will you know if the structure was effective? Your reader is the proof: they’ve been on the hero’s journey, a journey of change, aimed at educating them or challenging their views. Ideally, this change means they accept your result, but it’s still a breakthrough if they’re more educated (or passionate!) with their arguments.

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About the author:

Ren Daniel is a Canadian illustrator and writer-editor who's driven by an obsession with the art of storytelling and a love for psychology. If you enjoy exploring the world through creation and art, you can read his graphic novels for free on his website.

Join us October 24-25, 2025 for the inaugural Unleash Your Creativity online conference. Early-bird registration now open.

The reminder that we have a steady companion in writing and other modes of artistic expression is invaluable. Meanwhile, I know it’s been difficult for many writers lately to keep going. There are days when the dreaded “why” arrives. As in “Why create?”

Part of this is a sign of the times—notably, the fast-moving, hazy promises of autogenerated texts from artificial “intelligence” (AI) that may slowly (or quickly) drown out individual voices in favor of a more collective and muted narrative. Books are in danger of being banned by government officials, websites are erased, social media is always shifting, and publishing has become incredibly expensive.

We can accept these shifts as mere change, inevitable, and point out the silver linings (look at all the good that AI offers, for instance), but from the artist’s perspective, if we want to connect and find community, we need to work a little harder to distinguish ourselves. What does that mean?

As writers, we know that what’s convenient is rarely of value. Writing and art hold up mirrors to societies in peril and zoom in on community issues with grace and empathy. But the question of how to sustain as an artist or writer in 2025 feels unique.

A San Antonio poet, Carmen Tafolla, once told me that anything we can buy and sell is cheap. I haven’t forgotten this. And what we can mass produce (even big data) stories is unimpressive and likely more expensive than we can imagine right now.

What requires dedication and exploration, what exposes personal wonders and pains, what calls us to action and reveals our connectivity is what Unleash is about. We believe the value of art and writing to the inner human journey is inextricably linked to our capacity for empathy and connection.

I founded Unleash with a simple goal, and that was to identify and amplify individual voices. Authentic voices. Especially voices I felt weren’t being given platforms due to myopic gatekeepers on one side and censors on the other. I visualized Unleash as a bridge between expression and community.

We’ve published brilliant works, nominated writers for awards, hosted an annual book prize since 2022 (see announcements here and in your inbox soon), cheered writers on as they parlayed stories or groups of poems into manuscripts and shared them with the world to great reception.

But in 2025, our publishing arm is struggling. Meanwhile, we feel the call to offer more. It’s a strange conundrum.

Art invites us to take the journey beyond price, beyond costs into bearing witness to the world as it is and as it should be. Art invites us to know beauty and to solicit it from even the most tragic of circumstances. Art reminds us that we belong here. And if we serve, we last. My faith in art rivals my admiration for any other discourse. Its conversation with the public and among its various genres is critical to the understanding of what it means to care deeply and to be human completely. I believe. —Toni Morrison

To find a new way to connect in 2025, our team is working on a conference that you’ve seen advertised below our posts, and this will be our first step toward what we hope will be an opportunity to connect as creatives and restrengthen our collective footing.

While our first conference will be online, we are already thinking about logistics for 2026 and teasing out ways to connect in deeper ways with you. In person.

We all benefit when we explore the world from an authentic creative lens, and we need to cheer each other on along the way.

So if you’re having one of “those days,” please know that I remain interested in and dedicated to human stories. And I am not alone. We are not alone. We all benefit so greatly from reading each other’s stories—they connect us and buoy us.

I cannot wait to see what we create together this year and as we move forward.

Please know that we are always cheering you on. Your voices are more important than ever.

—Jen

To connect with us and learn more about our mission, find us on the about page.

Jen Knox was a high school dropout who found purpose in writing and earned a BA from Otterbein University and an MFA from Bennington College's Writing Seminars. She taught writing for over a decade and led the Writers in Communities Program at Gemini Ink. Now an award-winning author and lecturer at Ohio State University, Jen’s fiction can be found in The Best Small Fictions, The Adirondack Review, Chicago Tribune, Istanbul Review, Literary Orphans, McSweeney's Internet Tendency, Room Magazine, The Santa Fe Writers Project Quarterly, and The Saturday Evening Post, among over a hundred other publications. Jen's books include We Arrive Uninvited (Steel Toe Books Award Winner in Prose) and Chaos Magic (Kallisto Gaia Press). She received grants from the Ohio Arts Council and the Greater Columbus Arts Council to work on a collection of essays. Follow her page here.

Female character archetypes are common in many forms of media, and fiction is no different. From the femme fatale, spinster, girl-next-door, damsel in distress, the madwoman, or more recently, “The Karen,” these stereotypes grace many a page in contemporary fiction. Corresponding with the rise of feminism over the past century, recent decades have also seen the rise of the “strong female character.” A quick Google search using the prompt, “What is a strong female character” yields many millions of resources, one of which instructs the reader that character traits such as, “she has her own opinions,” “she is her own person,” “she has flaws,” and “she’s tough in her own right” are what constitute a strong female character. So,… basically a normal woman?

While there is no singular definition of what a strong female character actually is, the idea is to portray a character that inspires and empowers other women (and men!). Yet, in promoting this type of character archetype, some argue this reinforces the gender binary through emphasizing that a character must be either/or. Further, strong female characters are often positioned as taking on characteristics typically assigned to male characters, sending the message that female characters aren’t interesting enough in their own right (remember the “strong enough for a man, but made for a woman” antiperspirant commercials from the ‘90s?). In doing so, this also often results in removing all traces of gendered behaviour altogether. This oversimplification often leads to flat, unrealistic characters, or, if you will, “white bread” characters. In the same way that white bread carries no substance, so do stereotypical characters.

When creating female characters, focus on the personality traits that make them strong despite their gender. Natalie Sue’s debut novel I Hope This Finds You Well features protagonist Jolene Smith, an introverted office administrator with near-crippling anxiety and a traumatic past, and yet this character is entirely relatable. When faced with an ethical choice, her decision isn’t the best course of action and yet her perceived “weaknesses” and personal growth throughout the novel are what make her strong. Also of note here is that Sue managed to create her well-rounded and complex character without focusing on Jolene’s appearance. Not all strong female characters need to be styled after Katniss Everdeen from Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games or the Twilight series’ Bella Swan by Stephanie Meyer.

Instead of framing your female character around her male counterpart, create your character in her own right. Straddle your archetypes; hell, do away with them altogether! If there’s one thing society tells us about women today, it’s that female role models come in all shapes and sizes and diversity is a strength. And we don’t need men to rescue us.

About the author:

Self-proclaimed logophile and devourer of books, Ashley Holloway is a nurse, writer, and editor who teaches writing classes and healthcare leadership in Calgary, AB. She writes in a variety of genres with work appearing across Canada and the US and has co-authored three books. Ashley serves as Editorial Director at Unleash Creatives and her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.

Move over, ugly Christmas sweaters, this year’s Christmas theme is ‘tacky Christmas tree.’ Even the Washington Post and the New York Post are talking about it. Leaning into the nostalgia of Christmases past with mismatched, color-clashing decorations, this year’s theme is a vast departure from the typical minimalist and monochrome décor of recent years. ‘Tacky’ or not, to anyone born before 1980, this theme harkens back to childhood Christmases spent stringing popcorn and handmade decorations. Perhaps it’s a yearning for simpler, more authentic times, or maybe driven by thinning pocketbooks all around, this tacky Christmas tree theme is indicative of a society that is actively relinquishing perfection. Why not carry that forward to your writing too?

What is perfection, anyways? Merriam-Webster defines this as, “the quality or state of being perfect; a freedom from fault.” This begs the question: what does fault mean? Synonyms are listed as: weakness, failing, defect, and mistake. Linking these definitions together makes perfection seem rather… unrealistic. In the same way that no first draft is ever perfect, even the most seasoned of authors (and their editors) let mistakes slip through in a manuscript. In fact, some might argue that finding an error in a book written by your favourite author makes them feel a bit more accessible, or human. In today’s age of artificial intelligence, finding a spelling error in a work of writing is a good thing.

To be a writer means that you write. It takes practice. A lot of it. Further, writing is an iterative process of continually writing and revising, writing and revising. There is no end point in a circle, yet perfectionism demands one. Besides, one person’s idea of perfection may not be the same as another’s. J.K. Rowling’s The Casual Vacancy is a perfect example of this. This fact in itself demonstrates the unattainability of perfection; if the target is always moving, how do you hit it? And how do you know when you hit it if it is always moving? Perfectionism isn’t a check in the box, nor is it a science.

Making mistakes is easy when you write. While you are the writer of your stories, your reader fills in the blanks in their mind. As writers, you often read into your writing what you want readers to get out of it. As soon as your writing meets your needs, you deem it finished. But this disregards the readers’ needs, and yet this is so easy to do! Simply spending more time on your writing will not make it “perfect.” Having someone read your work and offer constructive feedback can help identify these areas that need revisiting; this is, by far, one of the best ways to improve your writing.

Sometimes it’s fear that drives the quest for perfectionism; fear of failure, fear of people thinking your writing isn’t good enough, fear of rejection. Fear, fear, fear. It’s an easy emotion; ironically, it’s also a safe option. Not doing something because you are afraid you might fail prevents you from even trying. You cannot fail it you don’t try.

Even Hemingway admitted that “the first draft of anything is shit.” So, in a society that promotes perfectionism, imperfection is rebellious. Just look to celebrated Canadian model and actress Pamela Anderson who now eschews makeup altogether. Imperfections, shmimperfections, she roars! This Christmas, go channel your inner Pamela Anderson and hang those salt dough ornaments and toilet paper angels on your tree. And just write that shit down.

About the author:

Self-proclaimed logophile and devourer of books, Ashley Holloway is a nurse, writer, and editor who teaches writing classes and healthcare leadership in Calgary, AB. She writes in a variety of genres with work appearing across Canada and the US and has co-authored three books. Ashley serves as Editorial Director at Unleash Creatives and her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.

Coined by Ernest Hemingway, The Iceberg Theory, also known as the “theory of omission” applies the concept of negative space in art to a writing context. Or, rather, by telling the reader everything by telling them very little. To compare this to an iceberg, only a small portion of the story’s details are visible or overtly communicated; these portions, which make up about 10% of the story, are “above the water.”

Just like an iceberg, about 90% of the story lies beneath the surface. These details, such as describing emotions or providing the backstory of a character affect the story in subtle or hidden ways. The “beneath the surface” part of the iceberg consists of the bulk of the story, or the underlying theme(s). Further, instead of telling the reader these details, the author shows them through the use of descriptive language and inference.  

In trusting the intelligence of the reader and strategically omitting pieces of information, the writer can then drop breadcrumbs of information (i.e., subtext), doling these out with just the right frequency for the reader to follow along. Not only does this allow the reader to interpret the underlying themes and emotions themselves, but this also creates a greater degree of depth to the story. Further, this also encourages the reader to actively participate in the story.

Adding subtext to your writing can be done in several ways. Firstly, observe how this is done in other books or movies. For example, think about how you might convey privilege. Perhaps through describing the iconic Chanel suit paired with pearls and Louboutin heels a character wears. Likewise, by conveying details in the setting, such as the pristine marble surfaces spanning the kitchen countertops, punctuated by stainless steel appliances and matte white cabinets with crystal knobs could also do the trick.

Putting yourself in the shoes of your character might also be an effective strategy to create subtext. For example, if someone told you a big secret, how might you react? What pressures might you face in knowing this secret? Would you be tempted to tell others? How would you keep this secret? Answering these questions within the context of what you would do can be helpful in helping to “create your iceberg.”

Finally, review and revise, review and revise, and review and revise. Channel your inner Marie Kondo and practice minimalism in your writing. Now go spark some joy and write…

About the Author:

Self-proclaimed logophile and devourer of books, Ashley Holloway is a nurse, writer, and editor who teaches writing classes and healthcare leadership in Calgary, AB. She writes in a variety of genres with work appearing across Canada and the US and has co-authored three books. Ashley serves as Editorial Director at Unleash Creatives and her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. 

“The vampire sunk his teeth into the maiden’s neck and drank her blood.”

Classic horror description, right? We know the drill: monster, victim, brutal act of brutality. Horror is fairly formulaic. But what takes a story from eerie to EEEP!? Sensory descriptions.

“A shadow moved in the corner of the room. The girl turned, and the slither of centuries-old skin sliding across the battered hardwood floor reached her ears. Before she could move, a cold reptilian hand stretched out of the darkness to wrap itself around her shoulder. Blood filled the girl’s mouth—she’d bit her lip—and she almost choked as the metallic taste of certain death flooded her tongue. The girl pulled away but the hand held her close as the vampire moved in, clouding her head with his sharp scent of predatory arrogance.”

Visceral, right? Your heart is pounding, your mouth has gone dry, and you can almost feel the vampire’s incisors pierce your skin. That’s good horror. So tick the boxes next to your sensory checklist and give your readers the response they crave.

1. Sight: Colour. Size. Scale. Movement. What we perceive impacts our read, so don’t be afraid to go gruesome.

2. Sound: Similes can conceptualize audible essence (‘the demon purred like a tiger getting its tummy rubbed’) but you can’t miss the mark with a well-placed onomatopoeia. Squish! Splat! Ew.

3. Touch: Remember the Three Ts: Texture! Temperature! Type! Is the beast’s tail smooth, bumpy, or sharp? Is the wind frigid, warm, or fiery? Did the corpse fall onto a surface that was dense, viscous, or undulating? Keep going: your readers are hooked.

4. Taste: Hone in on the roof of your mouth and your tongue—and use your palate to guide your writing: sweet, salty, sour, bitter, and savoury (or umami).

5. Smell: What stinks? Garbage. Smoke. Decaying plants. The list goes on. Our sense of smell can recall powerful emotions, so use this sense wisely. And when I say wisely, I mean be disgusting. Stomachs should churn when you describe the cloying scent of clotting blood.

Our basic senses can create vividly horrific stories, but—much like the shining in Stephen King’s book by the same name—don’t forget the vibes that exist on the fringe of our consciousness. Find a way to capture the feelings you can’t quite grasp. Your storytelling will be richer (and wilder) for it,

About the Author:

Stefanie Barnfather is a Canadian author. Previously, she worked for the Calgary Board of Education as a high school arts and inclusion educator. Stefanie graduated with honours from Sheridan College's Music Theatre - Performance program, and has a BFA and BED in fine arts from the University of Calgary. When she isn’t writing, Stefanie enjoys painting, hiking, and spending time with her husband and pug.

Her debut collection of short stories - You Know What I Think? - ranked first on the Calgary Herald's bestselling fiction list in 2023.

Stefanie's second novel - Beneath the Birch Trees - releases 09/24.

Follow her on Instagram and TikTok @stefbarnfather

Lisa Genova’s debut novel Still Alice (2007, iUniverse) is a brilliant depiction of what it might be like to live with early onset Alzheimer’s disease. Now, given the author is herself a neuroscientist, this offers a clear advantage in the research department, however, you don’t need to be a neuroscientist to write a compelling medical scene. There are a few tips and tricks to make it easier though.

Know that, for the most part, your audience is most often lay people who aren’t likely going to be able to discern whether a character’s sterile technique was maintained throughout a procedure or not, or the intricacies of a particular surgery (Grey’s Anatomy is, after all, the longest-running scripted primetime show on ABC). With that said, medical terminology and jargon can help add realism to a scene. Being able to translate medical jargon into lay language, or vice versa, can help relay information that is important for setting up a scene, creating tension, or foreshadowing, and in exchanges of dialogue. Likewise, a good barometer for how an illness might feel or for conveying the appropriate amount of emotion is to ask yourself, WWID (translation: “what would I do if I were in this situation?”).

When someone is diagnosed with a disease or experiences a medical event, those around them are affected too. While leveraging your secondary characters is an effective method to help develop your storyline, create context, and add to the narrative, how your secondary characters cope with a medical scenario or react to a character who is diagnosed with an illness can influence the social narrative around it (see one of my previous articles for more on how not to be Disney).

Trauma is another familiar trope in literature today. Whether the trauma is a car accident, a gunshot wound, or intimate partner violence, it is integral to portray this accurately and with sensitivity. Online modules, such as these free training modules from Alberta Health Services are geared towards healthcare professionals; however, they offer information that can be helpful in several areas, such as in helping you accurately portray a character who has experienced a traumatic event. This information can also be helpful in offering insight into how healthcare providers should approach an individual who has experienced trauma.

Finally, although Western medicine dominates here in Canada and the US, there are many other forms of medicine practiced throughout the world. Depending on the context of your story, consider consulting a knowledge expert who has expertise in this area, or hiring a sensitivity reader to help bridge any knowledge gaps.

Here are a few more tools that could be helpful to you in infusing medical information and details into your writing:

Take a CPR course: This is a great, (relatively) inexpensive way to learn basic lifesaving techniques that can be used to inform your writing. A Standard First Aid course covers some basic systems knowledge and treatments as well as a typical emergency response to a situation (here’s my public service announcement moment where I advise everyone to take a CPR course regardless).

Know your anatomy: This resource provides detailed images of different anatomical structures with accompanying descriptions. This can help you align body structures with symptoms. And it’s pretty cool.

Health Education and Learning (HEAL): This Alberta Health Services website offers easy to understand and reliable information about common minor illnesses and injuries in children. This can be helpful in portraying symptoms of common illnesses in children.

Symptom checker: This Alberta Health website contains a symptom checker, which can be helpful for character development and foreshadowing.

Open Education Resources (OER) are a great resource for free textbooks; this particular textbook can offer step-by-step instructions and information into some of the “doing” part of medicine. This can be helpful for scenario/character development.

Medical simulation videos: Use YouTube to search for medical simulation videos; these can offer a snapshot into how a patient might present, team dynamics and communication in an emergency situation, and treatment. Use reputable channels, such as those belonging to a specific hospital or healthcare organization; the video descriptions offer information on whether the scenario demonstrates positive or negative behaviours/interventions.

About the Author:

Self-proclaimed logophile and devourer of books, Ashley Holloway is a nurse, writer, and editor who teaches writing classes and healthcare leadership in Calgary, AB. She writes in a variety of genres with work appearing across Canada and the US and has co-authored three books. Ashley serves as Editorial Director at Unleash Creatives and her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. 

Horror is a genre that explores the parts of our world—both inner and outer—we don’t like to think about. The invisible part. The upside down. The unknown, perverse, dream-like reality that wiggles and writhes under the glaring light of truth. Capturing the essence of horror is a tricky feat because your stories must be incredibly honest and—at the same time—almost comically unreal. So—how do you rip the still-beating heart from your concept so its life-blood drips onto the page in a way that resonates with readers?

Boundaries.

If you want to write horror, you are probably well aware of the shadow aspect of human nature: the world that thrives when the light is out. But you may not feel equipped to authentically, and mercilessly, portray the darkness without letting it consume you. If you linger in the underworld too long, it might be hard to leave so you can share your discoveries; and boundaries create doors through which you can enter and exit as needed.

Door Number One: Time

Make specific, non-negotiable time within your day when you can research and write uninterrupted. Allow your ideas to flow in any direction they choose, and don’t be afraid of the conclusions you draw—or the imagery you access—during your drafting.

Door Number Two: Headspace

Engage in activities that transition you into and out of the world you’re shaping. Horror realities can be bleak—and I don’t recommend carrying them with you throughout your day—so listen to music, meditate, sing, dance, draw, or go for a walk to shake off the weight of your writing.

Door Number Three: Health

Navigating the underworld is a full body experience, so become robust. Develop your emotional intelligence. Get physically fit, and prioritize sleep. Drink water. Drink more water. Respect your health so you can create wild and woolly stories for as long as you’d like.

Door Number Four: Non-Judgement

Care for the creatures you’re representing. Remember: they have to have human aspects for readers to connect. Even if your world is inhumane, empathize with your monsters and rationalize their brutality. Love the beings that hide in the darkness; they’re more afraid of us than we are of them.

Finally, enjoy the work—and be proud! Writing horror takes courage and an infinitely compassionate soul.

About the Author:

Stefanie Barnfather is a Canadian author. Previously, she taught high school arts and inclusive education. Ms. Barnfather graduated with honours from Sheridan College's Music Theatre - Performance program, and has a BFA and BED in secondary fine arts from the University of Calgary. YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK? is her debut collection of short stories. When she isn't writing, she enjoys painting, hiking, and spending time with her husband and pug.

Ashley Holloway (AH): Hi, Stefanie Barnfather from Barnfather Books in Calgary, AB, Canada! Thanks for taking some time with Unleash. We were thrilled to share your narrative with our writers. Can you tell us a little about your journey as a writer?

Stefanie Barnfather (SB): Hi! I’m so glad you enjoy my work. I started writing fiction stories—and books—after spending most of my life in the performance world. I used to be an arts and inclusive education teacher (focusing on literacy), but I stumbled into writing when I rekindled my love of reading a few years ago.

AH: You write in a very niche market: dystopic horror. I’d love to know how you ended up writing in this genre.

SB: Dystopic horror was not a genre I was familiar with before I started writing, funnily enough. I love reading humour, fantasy, and thriller/mystery stories. But working in inclusive education lit a bit of a fire, and I felt compelled to explore why and how systems of power can so easily fail the most vulnerable demographics in our population. After deep-diving into psychology, global governance, and abusive relationship research (fun, right?) I combined my learning with my Surrealist creation background. That’s how I ended up with stories about sentient plants who feed on codependent humans to grow their world-consuming hedgerows. And other equally off-kilter tales.

AH: Tell me about your writing process; is there anything you do too much or too little of in a first draft?

SB: I overwrite dialogue and underwrite description in the first draft. I’m a talker. Process-wise, I try to get a first draft completed after lightly plotting around a central theme. Then I go into heavy revisions, send the work to beta readers, and revise again after receiving reader feedback. Then I edit-edit-edit-proofread and publish.

AH: Who do you think is the most effective dystopic horror writer and what do you think is necessary to write authentically in this genre?

SB: Ooo. That’s a tough question. Margaret Atwood immediately leaps to mind, but I have to give a nod to the King and Cormac McCarthy. Atwood’s intelligent world building is tight (I love how she uses human nature tropes to make our demise feel unavoidable) but Stephen King’s unflinching navigation of the grittier aspects of our psyche—and McCarthy’s confidence in portraying bleak, merciless realities—makes it a three-tiered podium tie for me. In order to write authentically in this genre I think you need courage, untethered internal boundaries, and the willingness to go BIG. Super big. When writing the first draft, you should squirm. If you feel nauseated reading back your work, you’re getting close. I recommend using sensory descriptions. The more visceral the better.

Photo by Thomas Willmott on Unsplash

AH: You write dystopic horror professionally. In your personal life, what scares you?

SB: Ahhhhhhhhhhhh, vulnerability? Hahahahaha, eeep!!! Okay, real o’clock time: I’m scared of being alone. For forever. Like, alone alone. Locked-in-solitary-confinement alone. Wandering-a-barren-landscape-for-eternity alone. My headspace is relatively pleasant, but my demons can be sarcastic, hypercritical jags when they aren’t around compassionate people. Also, I don’t like cantaloupe: I don’t trust fruit that tastes like sand.

AH: What kind of books do you read when you’re on vacation?

SB: Anything by Agatha Christie. Anything by Philipp Schott or Christopher Moore. Lots of romance. I’m a big fan of Julia Quinn.

AH: What are you working on next?

SB: I’ve just finished my upcoming release, Beneath the Birch Trees, which is a romantic tragedy (heavy on the tragedy) set in the futuristic alternate-reality world of Canuckia. Yes, ‘Canuckia’ is meant to be funny. BTBT is the second novel in the series, and I’m currently in the middle of writing the third. The world is grim, the people have maladaptive coping mechanisms, and the conflict resolutions vary. I try to write hopeful stories that provide examples of ways the characters could have behaved differently, but I also try to write real stories in which happy endings are subjective.

While there isn’t a literary meat thermometer that answers this question, it can be helpful to first ask yourself what your goal for the manuscript is. This can help you determine the level of its doneness. Asking yourself whether you are submitting it to a contest, to an open call for submissions with a publisher, or an agent? Or perhaps you are self-publishing, or hiring a freelance editor with the intent to submit down the road? Knowing your purpose, or your why is important and will provide guidance in deciding when done is done.

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People are generally trusted to have good intentions. But if it walks like a monster and talks like a monster then—you betcha—that line-cutting customer is probably a monster. But they don’t have fangs, spikes, or glowing red eyes that make their inner evil obvious—unlike the fictional creatures that roam the pages of horror stories.

While creepy claws are a genre ‘must,’ sometimes the scariest beasts in books are the ones with whom we’re familiar. How can you combine behaviours we encounter every day with the abnormal demons from our dreams? Surrealism!

Surrealism was an art movement in the 20th century that strove to make the invisible visible; the unknown known; the sublime blime.* If you want to craft characters who cause chaos and commit crimes, use these Surrealist precepts to guide your writing.

1. Express the Subconscious Mind: You know that odd thought you had when you were half-asleep? Make it a characteristic of the serial killer in your WIP. You know that strange impulse you had while you were driving the Trans Canada from Moosejaw to Winnipeg? I’m glad you didn’t swerve into Saskatchewan’s never-ending wheat fields, but maybe the cows in your short story could mutate after eating too much canola.

2. Redefine the Status Quo: Some people blow through red traffic lights. Make your villains blow up traffic lights, regardless of colour. Some people won’t tip their servers if their dining experience isn’t exemplary. Make your fiends eat their server then devour the sous-chef and the restaurant’s host: that’ll teach them for not offering a cheese course before dessert.

3. Challenge Conventional Descriptions: * I know ‘blime’ isn’t a word. But it illustrates this point. Ha!

4. Embrace Randomness and the Unpredictable:

There once was an author from Olds

Whose heart was stagnant and cold

Her stories were weird

Her crow had a beard

And she wasn’t very good at writing Limericks

Surrealism has inspired countless storytellers to twist the truth and unsettle our souls. Will you be one of them?

About the Author:

Stefanie Barnfather is a Canadian author. Previously, she worked for the Calgary Board of Education as a high school arts and inclusion educator. Stefanie graduated with honours from Sheridan College's Music Theatre - Performance program, and has a BFA and BED in fine arts from the University of Calgary. When she isn’t writing, Stefanie enjoys painting, hiking, and spending time with her husband and pug.

Her debut collection of short stories - You Know What I Think? - ranked first on the Calgary Herald's bestselling fiction list in 2023.

Stefanie's second novel - Beneath the Birch Trees - releases 09/24.

Follow her on Instagram and TikTok @stefbarnfather

The mental image of a lone writer sitting hunched at their desk in a darkened room, toiling away underneath a small pool of light emitted from the single banker’s lamp is an easy one to conjure. Writing is, after all, a rather solitary activity. It’s you putting your ideas to paper according to your schedule. Likewise, finding your own voice as a writer takes a great deal of time, practice, and consistent, focused feedback. And really, as a culture we are conditioned to think of writing as a solitary act. How might co-writing a story change that?

Co-writing offers readers two sets of experiences, which can result in multifaceted stories that resonate on a deeper level. And let’s face it: co-writing reaches more audiences. Further, co-writing can also be great for motivation; not wanting to let your writing partner down, staying on track becomes a priority. However, like an only child learning how to share, co-writing is an intentional process that has its challenges.

Will and Ian Ferguson’s recent release Mystery in the Title show us that siblings can actually get along, and Janie Chang and Kate Quinn’s The Phoenix Crown demonstrates beautifully the weaving together of two disparate narratives. Three Holidays and a Wedding, by Uzma Jalaluddin and Marissa Stapley, infuses culture into the romance trope, promoting the magic of difference. While these authors make co-writing look easy, there are a few tips that can help you get started.

Firstly, plan ahead. Plan everything from what your end goal is (project completion, or award-winner?), to the schedule (write every spare moment, versus only on weekends), whether vetoing edits is acceptable (can you kill off each other’s darlings?), to the story outline itself (how will you knit this together?). Deciding ahead of time how the workload will be split, such as 50:50 or otherwise, is also something that needs to be discussed from the start.

With that said, flexibility is also important when co-writing. As the story evolves, workloads may change, or timelines may need to be adjusted. Meeting regularly, whether by Zoom, WhatsApp, or in person (if geography allows) can be helpful, also serving as opportunities to celebrate your creative process and have some fun. 

Creating a communication plan is important. In addition to open, honest feedback delivered respectfully and constructively, choosing how, when, and through which channels you will communicate is integral. Whether you create a shared Google Doc or write via exchanging emails, the process itself will likely be trial and error; however, establishing these parameters at the outset helps ensure you are both on the same page with your expectations.

Finally, finding a cohesive, consistent voice can be another challenge. The aim is to create a solution, where one author is a solute, and the other a solvent. When combined together, the solute is dissolved in the solvent, creating a solution. In other words, co-writing is a bit like making Kool Aid; you take two disparate ingredients together to create a summertime essential. And who doesn’t like Kool Aid?

Self-proclaimed logophile and devourer of books, Ashley Holloway is a nurse, writer, and editor who teaches writing classes and healthcare leadership in Calgary, AB. She writes in a variety of genres with work appearing across Canada and the US and has co-authored three books. Ashley serves as Editorial Director at Unleash Creatives and her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. 

Whether you have travel plans over the summer or have other times throughout the year that take you on the road for three weeks or three months, sustaining and nurturing a writing routine is important to growing and improving as a writer. Below are some suggestions to consider including as you write while on the road:

Maintain a Regular Writing Time – Make sure to write every day, even when traveling. Whether you write in the morning, evening, or alternate between the two depending on your schedule, set aside regular, dedicated time to write. This will help you continue to strengthen your writing practice.

Record Things You Observe – As you visit and stay in new and different places, there will be many things to see and experience. Write your observations down so that you can learn from and refer back to them in the future, perhaps incorporating some elements into your writing.

Stay Connected with Writers – From connecting online to attending events in person in the area you are visiting, there are numerous ways to meet other writers while traveling. Creating and building community with writers while you are on the road can provide mutual encouragement and support along the writing journey.

Read on a Regular Basis – Continue to read regularly. With seeing new places and trying new activities, your schedule can quickly and easily get busy. Make it a priority to carve out time to read, highlighting books by authors who are from the areas you visit. Setting aside ten or fifteen minutes each day to read good literature can help keep you inspired to write.

There are many ways to keep up with writing while on the road. Not only can traveling provide you with new experiences and sights to enhance your writing, but it can also be a way to grow your practice by writing consistently even in new surroundings.

Writing Prompts:

• Going on a road trip gives us time to learn new things about the places we visit and ourselves. What would you like to take the time to learn about yourself while on the road?

• Traveling provides the opportunity to see new vistas. Is there something in your life that would be helpful to view from a new perspective?

• Find a postcard with an image you like and use it as a prompt – perhaps as the setting – to write a story.

• Write a poem based on the numbers and letters on a license plate

Barbori Garnet is the author of The Gift of Journaling: Writing as a Path to Discovery (Garnet Creek Productions, 2024) and Home at the Office: Working Remotely as a Way of Life (Atmosphere Press, September 2021). She is a writer, artist, musician, and gardener based in Alberta. Her other interests include reading, tennis, and enjoying cups of tea with family and friends. Barbori has a BFA in Painting & Drawing from Academy of Art University and an MA Communications in Public Relations from Southern New Hampshire University.

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In a recent conversation with my teenage daughter where we were discussing a book of fiction she had just finished, she commented on how one of the characters, when divulging her recent recovery from an eating disorder to a new flame, bluntly informed them of such and then carried on eating her donut. Now, on one hand, the frankness of the conversation between these two characters highlights the relative normalcy of doing so, which may, in turn, promote others to do the same. However, to my daughter’s point, the bluntness of the conversation (followed by the consumption of a donut) did not accurately portray the mental illness aspect that underpins a diagnosis of such, nor did it highlight the long process of recovery involved. In turn, the story lost a great deal of authenticity in that moment, leaving my daughter feeling somewhat cheated. This begs the question, at what point does this authenticity become inauthentic?

Storytelling is the perfect medium with which writers can change the narrative. Through the work we do, writers can advance the dialogue around equity, inclusion, and diversity, yet to do so, we must be informed. Most writers would agree that, even when writing fiction, authenticity is integral. Because of this, writers often feel more comfortable writing about things they know about or have lived experience with. In the case of the author of the book my daughter was reading, it was clear they didn’t know a whole lot about recovering from an eating disorder. This isn’t to say that you cannot write about an eating disorder if you have never had one. Through research, this can be done effectively. For example, there are websites that convert medical language into layman’s terms, medical consultants you can pose questions to, and plenty of blogs to help here. But what about the diversity, equity, and inclusion checklist? How do we avoid that?!

One of the key aspects of including diversity into your writing is to appreciate the power of perspective; when we write from the position of another, or, rather, walk a mile in another’s shoes, we need to take our own shoes off first. This means understanding that an individual’s background and experiences shape the way they see the world, the same as it does to you and I. Knowing this helps with being mindful of how others might see the world completely differently, and it’s not until we are faced with these differences do we appreciate they even exist in the first place.

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