In researching various treatment methods for PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), I’ve come across a trend that is surprising, endearing, and nothing short of wonderful: studies have found that owning a dog can be an effective treatment method for war vets suffering from PTSD. According to this July 2012 article from Smithsonian Magazine, “The animals draw out…… Continue reading Man’s Best Friends Help Treat Vets with PTSD
In the first of these entries, wherein I transcribed my jottings, I made note of a twitchy gentleman sitting in the corner with his back to the wall. I didn’t make mention of him when I expanded those notes into two scenes in my second entry, because I was saving him for this. For a…… Continue reading Hair One Minute, Gone The Next; and a Reflection
In the last entry, I transcribed my field notes from an excursion to a local bookstore cafe. In this entry, I’m going to go a step further and attempt to morph those notes into two distinct scenes. Your comments will help me determine if I’ve been successful or not. Scene One The cafe wasn’t overly…… Continue reading Scene it?
Field research is something that is largely foreign to me. Research itself is not: I’ve had my nose in books and magazines since my earliest memories. I used to peruse a card catalog with the best of them. In modern times, my Google-Fu is strong. But actually getting out in the field? Not so much.…… Continue reading Practicing Fieldnotes
I’ve got a thousand directions in which I can go for the end product with my PTSD research. I know what I want the final product to be, form-wise: a heroic crown of sonnets. That hasn’t changed. But there are so many angles, so many variables, so many different paths to take. This is a…… Continue reading Brainstorming
I contacted my first interview subject today. I briefly explained what it was I want to accomplish. He didn’t hesitate for a second to accept. I assured him that the interview would be confidential and I would not use his name, but he wants his name used. He wants to be able to tell his…… Continue reading And we’re off…
Sam Thacker was my friend. At 22, she had already served a tour in Iraq and been discharged from the U.S. Army. A month before her 23rd birthday, Sam died in a car crash in North Philly. She was in a neighborhood where no one who is up to any kind of good goes. She sideswiped…… Continue reading Wounded Warriors