Sandra Rose Hughes

It's been a slow year for me for submissions. It feels like many things have happened that have affected my writing. Last year, I was sorting through my grandfather's death, and then a few months later the suicides and upheaval at my school were awful. It seemed like I didn't like very much of anything I was writing, and when you don't like what you're writing...it is hard to get a groove going. Teaching high school is unfortunately all-consuming and most of my creative ability has been used up in lesson planning, play-directing, and creating the hated Yearbook. I haven't been creating enough new work to get really excited about sending in very many pieces. However, it has not been a completely dry year. This month, I had my poem (it's so dark and painful that I'd rather not publish it here), "Grandpa's Clothes," published in the Lit. Magazine, Midnight Screaming , and I just recieved word from "Whistling Fire" that they have acc...

I hate Halloween. Don't get me wrong, I think cute costumes are awesome and I think Trick-Or-Treating can be a fun community activity. But since I've become a high school teacher, I've started dreading this day. Vampires and zombies don't scare me. I don't like fake blood everywhere, but other than just looking tacky, it doesn't really bother me. But you know what does? When teenagers and children dress up like pimps and whores. Now that frightens me. Sex trafficking is a gigantic problem in the United States and all over the world. Pimps, Madams, and anyone else who profits from the sexual exploitation of women, men, and children are, as far as I'm concerned about the lowest human beings on the planet. It doesn't get much more disgusting than that. And yet my high schoolers are dressed today as pimps and whores. Lovely. In my eyes, dressing as a pimp is akin to dressing as a child molestor. I see them dressed this way, and I KNOW they are not thinking a...

My husband introduced me to the book, _A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich_ a few years ago. It takes you through the exhausting, life-threatening day of a man living in a Siberian work camp and if you can get through it, it's well worth the read. I felt a little like Ivan today...okay, maybe it's a huge stretch to compare my life to a Siberian work camp, but occasionally it feels just a little bit like that. So here was my day today. The alarm clock woke me and Anthony at 4:15 AM. The trailer was 45 degrees F. Anthony got up when the alarm went off, but I was so tired and cold that I slept in until 5:00. I stumbled out of bed and put on 2 pairs of socks, sweat pants and a jacket. I went to the bathroom and washed my face, brushed my teeth, and fought the desire to crawl back into the warm bed. Around 5:10 AM, Anthony left. He has an hour commute to work. I spent 20 minutes on the computer and was upset to realize that my family had a girl's night planned for tonight which...

I first met my dog at the Animal Shelter in Southlake. She is a large black labrador with yellow eyes. She lay quietly in her kennel, staring hopefully out the gate. The workers must have had a soft-spot for her, because they pointed her out to me and made a big deal about what a great dog she would be. I liked her quietness and how grateful she looked to be let out of the pen and played with. She was about one year old, but she seemed to have a deep sadness and fearfulness. She looked around warily, though it was clear she wanted attention. She was clearly undernourished and her ribs and hips stuck out sadly. I took her outside and she ran around a little, but still seemed reserved and loathe to leave my side. At one point, she stood up on her hind legs, put her front paws on my shoulders, and looked deeply into my eyes with this desperate, "Please, please, take me home and take care of me," look. I promised her I would take her home and take care of her and put meat on her ...

My Creative Nonfiction writing workshop ended last week. It was only a month long, but I feel that my writing grew a great deal in that time. I wrote about love, marriage, family, death, coming to terms with loss, basically all those BIG topics in life. I struggled to portray my friends and family honestly but kindly. Overall, I am really glad that I took the workshop. Our teacher, Ann Beman, had great suggestions and was very supportive and helpful. And to think I almost didn't sign up! None of my fears were grounded and I think I have worked through some of my insecurities about my writing. The class was so encouraging, I have even submitted a few new pieces to literary journals. I will keep you posted on whether or not I get accepted.

Photo Credit: Brandon Muncy at Kvsun.com Sometimes I get the feeling that I am not in Kansas anymore. I was raised in the suburbs where semi-identical houses line up row by row. Everyone had a two-car garage, a little patch of lawn to mow and a small backyard area big enough for a pool and maybe a dog or two. My parent's house in Bakersfield was in a nice little cul-de-sac conveniently located near a good high school. Other children in the neighborhood were close to our age and many of our neighbors took their street very seriously. On the Fourth of July, neighbors would buy firework packs and everyone would sit together to watch while the teenage boys and adult men lit them. Spectacular Christmas light displays appeared the day after Thanksgiving and disappeared by New Years Day, like clockwork. On Friday nights in the summer, one of our neighbors would light a firepit in their front yard and the adults would bring out their lawn chairs and sit and talk while the children played ...

"Schools are going to be all run by computers now. It won't be long before everything is on that internet. What will you do instead of teaching?" My mother-in-law and I were driving to exercise class together. We had been discussing my neice's education in the car when she posed this question to me. I was a little taken aback. Linda is not affiliated with education in any way. She doesn't even have a computer, so I have no idea where she is getting this idea. I am a high school teacher who knows how to use the internet and I highly doubt the entire education systen will transition into completely virtual teaching any time soon. But there is no arguing with Linda, so I shrug and say, "I'm going to be a stay-at-home mom." "Oh, you won't want to do that forever, Sandy. You'll have to do something when the kids grow up." I sigh. Why is she making me think fifteen years in the future? I have enough to think about in this decade to wor...