It began with a boy with a lightning bolt on his forehead on a train. And just as the idea came to Rowling, a Dickensian novel could have started out like this: a little orphan boy with a mark on his face being laid at the door of some snobbish middle class brick-heads.
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Category Archives: Books
My poem, “Birds and Bees,” Featured on VerseWrights
My poem, “Birds and Bees,” is now featured on VerseWrights.
Check it out!
X-Men’s Apocalypse is Right
X-Men: Apocalypse opened this summer, the latest installment in a famous comic turned film franchise. Although I have not seen the film, anyone familiar with the titular villain knows that the premise follows his character’s legacy: A nearly invincible and all-powerful mutant wishes to destroy the world of humans (and weak mutants) and create a world meant only for the strongest.
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I’m A Featured Poet at Contemporary American Voices!
I am happy to announce that the poetry website Contemporary American Voices has selected me as their featured poet for May 2016!
Three of my poems appear:
“Pilgrim”
“Contours”
“Happy Hour”
Along with my work, poetry of my brother, Lukas Guard, and an old schoolmate, Allison Boyd, also appears.
English Teachers of My Youth: Mr. Campbell
That final year of high school, we all died. We were going to face that shadow guard to our IB certificate (or diploma), that infamous man, Mr. Campbell.
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English Teachers of My Youth: Mrs. Barbour
Creative Writing and Journalism—Mrs. B
In my second half of high school, I sank my teeth into writing endeavors under a single teacher who would come to be one of the most influential teachers I would ever have: Mrs. Barbour.
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English Teachers of My Youth: Mr. Bolte
11th grade: Mr. Bolte.
Junior year began the actual IB classes, incredibly rigorous examinations of difficult literature. We had to think more critically than ever before. Some of my friends were full IB, all 4 core classes plus like 2 or 3 extra being IB level. I would have died. And because I was not full IB, I felt the pressure to display my intelligence to my peers. But I also still wanted to be a goofball.
English Teachers of My Youth: Mrs. Carter
10th grade: Mrs. Carter.
I did not like Mrs. Carter. This is important, because she was the first English teacher I decided I didn’t really care for. It wasn’t because she wasn’t good. She cared about us tremendously, employed creative means to educate us, and was always positive. But it’s important for me to know why.
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English Teachers of My Youth: Mr. Robinson
9th grade: Mr. Robinson
In 9th grade it got real. We were in Pre-IB English, and it wasn’t for sissies any more. This was going to be hard. We suddenly had to dive into literature like never before. We had to do this new thing called analyzing. We had to provide specific proof. Enter Mr. Robinson, the most odd English teacher yet.
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English Teachers Of My Youth: Mrs. Humphrey
8th grade: I was a big dog on middle school campus. I felt both able and allowed to be mischievous. And throughout most of the year I had mixed feelings about Mrs. Humphrey, the short, stern-faced, saccharine, classically PTA-mom-like teacher of my final middle school year.
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CALEB COY 