Reading “The Mists of Avalon” at Age Twelve

I was a twelve-year-old social pariah and I had probably read every Arthurian book in our (admittedly limited) middle school library. At school, my favorite lunchtime activity was sitting in the classroom of a sympathetic teacher and discussing books with her. Read More Reading “The Mists of Avalon” at Age Twelve

Losing My Religion

I didn’t drink, smoke, or experiment with drugs when I was in high school. I didn’t stay out past my curfew; I didn’t even have a curfew.  That’s because my adolescent rebellion took place between 9 am and 11 am on Sunday mornings.  That’s right; my rebellious teenage phase was that I went to church.  A Baptist church, to be precise.  I became a Christian the summer before my freshman year in high school after watching a particularly persuasive crucifixion video at a church camp I went to with my best friend.  My parents, both having rejected the Catholicism they were raised in, were not thrilled about my “conversion” but they allowed me to be active in the church and I went every Sunday and many Wednesdays and went on two mission trips to Mexico (oh yes. I was that girl).  I turned 17 in August of 1999 and I had been involved in my church for three years. Read More Losing My Religion