Author Archives: Jaclynn Loibl

Ladies and gentlemen, enter Helen Reddy (imagine a Vanna White hand gesture accompanied by billowy velvet fabric folding into itself like a cathedral’s accordion). “Yes, I am wiseBut it’s wisdom born of painYes, I’ve paid the priceBut look how much I’ve gainedIf I have to, I can do anythingI am strong (strong)I am invincible (invincible)IContinue reading “Aftershock Smoothings”

“I can’t do stream of consciousness,” a lover of books, words, and a client I counsel told me. “You can’t do stream of consciousness?!” I asked, much too accusatorily, as if I were being asked to teach breathing. The task was simple: to write a letter to their fear, to this jump-scare horror movie feeling,Continue reading “Mourn the Gap”

Do you know water striders? Am I saying that right? The waterborne daddy-longlegs or crane flies, those slender creatures with stilts-like legs that skim across the water’s surface, not quite angelic, but certainly not as clumsy as a moose learning to stand. Well, picture those critters, but thousands of them. Can you visualize it? Now,Continue reading “Sagebrush Showdown”

You know that silly giggly thing that Pee Wee Herman does? That hiccupy, heel-kick-sounding sound? When typed phonetically, it would make one’s fingers corkscrew and spring off the page like T-I-Double-G-er. Better yet, it’s the sound that millions of fairies’ buttery yawns create when orchestrated in unison. And if you can imagine all that magic,Continue reading “What the Whiskers?!”

Admitting defeat, or rather a need for help, I Googled “How to not fail as a parent,” which led to the page “7 Ways to Enjoy Parenting More.” The second tip is as obvious as the dentist’s reminder to floss and is one I easily miss: “Put down your phone.” So Dave and I bothContinue reading “And She’s Up!”

There are animated dancing forks, a talking candelabra, and Cogsworth the clock being projected on the wall of our living room. Unlike a regular TV whose sound is at the device, the projector’s sound is spewing two feet from my left ear. However much I’d prefer a cozy spot on my bed in the quietContinue reading “Projecting Parenthood”

Nine, filled to the brim with second-hand clothes, garbage bags are strewn about my house. Two in the car, three in the entryway, one at the top of the stairs landing before entering my bedroom, and three in the bedroom. On my body is a black T-shirt with an outline of a white skull. IContinue reading “A Golden Ticket”

The thing about having a daily deadline to write is that I can only procrastinate for so long. Tonight, I pushed the limit to 9:37 pm, and with 30-45 minutes of writing time and 20 minutes of editing, that’ll put me right at 11 pm. Operating outside my comfort zone is how I prefer it,Continue reading “Duck and Cover”

When I write, I feel like a stenographer, a person of the court, jotting down verbatim the words heard and their source. Sitting there matter-of-factly, boringly, the most exciting thing about me is my wide and transparent-rimmed glasses snapped to chain links hanging loosely around my neck. I’m so boring, so the same day inContinue reading “The Reluctant Stenographer”

A wind tunnel spins around me, thoughts like dollar bills spinning and I grab at them, but they’re off. It’s hard to catch just one thought and pin it down. One more succinct thought was about moving, and the vacancy that’ll exist in a once-filled space. Is it the cavern behind my eye, the sunkenContinue reading “The Search is On”