Personal Essay

And When All Else Fails, Who Will Rescue Us from the Edge of Extinction?

Photo by Cookie the Pom on Unsplash

Has online writing become the opiate of the masses?

Or is it on the brink of extinction?

Is it truly one of the benchmark bastions of democracy, where practically anyone can find a platform or a soapbox, no matter how splintered, to express themselves in writing?

Or are we all done with the sheer banality of it all?

Will public apathy, algorithms or a drop in viewership lead to the end of online platforms for freelance writing? Or are there other, more integral forces and factors in play? Are we still strong enough, steadfast enough and persistent enough to weather…


Photo by Andres Lamartine on Unsplash


The sky looked furious,
spitting odiously on piles of shrunken, dirty snowbanks,
that shovellers had incongruously formed to clear a path.

Was this the same sky
that had been my inspiration
as I would lie on luxuriant green grass
looking up at the kaleidoscope of colors?

The same sky that kept me grounded,
the same clouds that were like flotation devices
drifting in an upward ocean,

gregariously looking like bleached formations of Einstein or impulsive doodles of imagination, distorted wondrous shapes,
instead of nefarious ghosts or wormholes leading to the tunnel vision of an alternate sky,

with a thousand…

Personal Essay

Especially When You Think Poems Are Irrelevant

Words by American Inaugural Poet , Amanda Gorman, image modified by author Connie Song with Calligraphy Font on

When I first joined, my focus was not really on writing.

I was already a published author, primarily in the double genres of short story fiction and poetry, with a number of my pieces included in anthologies published on Amazon over the years.

At first, I really didn’t think that fiction or poetry was quite the right fit for an on-line platform like Medium. I imagined no one was here to read fantasy or verse. Instead, I envisioned it as a place to read about relevant real-life issues, with deep dives into dealing with mental health or interpersonal relationships…


My Online Writing Journey

Photo Credit by Polina Tankilevitch on

When I first started writing online, many moons ago, I joined the pack of thousands already participating in a freelance writing platform owned by Yahoo!

It resembled Medium in some ways, except that if your article was promising but did not fit the editors’ prerequisites for sharp, online writing, they offered a free instructive course on their Yahoo University site for specified, effective writing techniques.

Following their guidelines paid off in the end. My articles got accepted, published and hit with readership likes — generating some pennies. The big turnaround happened when the editors liked one of my submissions so…

A Personal Essay

Meds, Metaphors and Memoirs

Photo by Yannick Pulver on Unsplash

Meds, metaphors and memoirs.

Throw in cigarette butts, diet coke, frozen margaritas, a tennis squeeze ball and you have a snapshot of me in the throes of chaos, starting my makeshift novel during the summer break between college and grad school.

It wasn’t a total waste of time, since it left me with a golden tan but a distinct distaste for creative writing on a larger scale, which forced me to change lanes. In a lot of ways, it was like riding a stationery bike, spinning my wheels, exercising and toning the craft, but never getting to an ultimate destination…


Photo by Jessica F on Unsplash

Why does time just drift away?
Carpe diem,
seize the sunset,
hug the moonlight and the moment,
be the sun,
the chimes of wind,
the impending dawn.

Hope and unexpired dreams will follow,
like fresh tracks on old trails, they will find a new path,
and the dandelions will feel the welcome of your warm embrace.

© Connie Song 2021. All Rights Reserved.

Poetry Sunday

photo credit by Erick Zajac on Unsplash

It seems like a lifetime ago,
I felt like a girl lost on a bridge,
enthralled and empowered
by what I thought was on the other side.

It just might take two lifetimes
to understand the connections
and paths that bring us closer to a destination.

To see past Oz and the trolls
that hem and haw and judge the world,
the vulnerable and the weak,
and the ones with no resounding voice left to speak.

Maybe time is the bridge
between stolen dreams and hijacked hearts,
leaving us smart or dumb enough to know
which ones to cross
and which to burn.

© Connie Song 2021. All Rights Reserved.


An Essay

Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

I would shovel the oatmeal robotically into my mouth, while reading from a book sprawled on the kitchen table. My insouciant family was quite accustomed to seeing me in this position — an almost meditative state, especially since enrolling in courses with a professor well-known for his random spot quizzes and essays to test if we had read the previous night’s assignments.

I was careful not to get milky stains or traces of yellow highlighter on mama’s Victorian lace tablecloth, but I was unmercifully brutal on my dog-eared, folded pages of The Great Gatsby or The Scarlett Pimpernel. I used…

Short Story


photo credit by Jackson David on

Adam saw the sun peeking out, as he bent down to tie his loosened shoe lace.

He stood in front of the faded yellow house with brown shutters — Amanda’s family residence. Adam hadn’t seen that house or Amanda for over seven months now. He wondered if he should sidle up to the alleyway and toss pebbles lightly against her bedroom window, like he had seen in at least a dozen romantic comedies. He remembered how she would laugh every time they watched those movies together.

Sometimes his thoughts were so cliché. …


Photo by South of France Photos on Unsplash

Creativity impatiently waits
to be imprinted and inscribed
on blank screens
and burlap canvas, woven like cashmere,
on flaxen lips spewing words
inspired and unspoken.

A new day breaks,
the soul sets sail and reflects the mirrored light
that harbors endless, sleepless, tortured nights,
until the stars unravel their peaceful, tranquil aura,
and creativity dreams, all the while it impatiently waits.

© Connie Song 2021. All Rights Reserved.

Connie Song

Writing to better understand the chaos and beauty of life. Aesop enthusiast. Marie Kondo devotee.

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