Sara Medwin

It’s the little things—the brief glimmer of a memory, a breeze reminding me of some deeply known truth, or a glimpse of a feeling that’s impossible to capture with words—that inspire me to put pen to paper (or finger to notes app) and write. As a creative writer, I explore the subtleties that arrest my attention, implicate my emotions, and ultimately, shape my perceptions of the world. My work is informed by my experiences as a bi-racial, female writer, as well as my experiences with disability and stigmatization. Though my creative writing draws from and is centered around my own personal encounters with mental health, soul-searching, and more, I seek to communicate universal sentiments through a lens that is visible and tangible to many. When I write, I lend a voice to the restless feelings I have that ache and echo, adding contrast and color to my life. In the same vein, I hope to express and communicate feelings that are so often suppressed or stigmatized by society. The complex feelings of guilt and adoration I bear towards my family and my lingering feelings of “otherness” house themselves in my work as I explore the tensions and threads that have culminated in who I am today.

Get to know a little more about Sara and her writing journey!

“…my passion for social consciousness and awareness continually influences my writing…”read more

Sara’s Work

princess from the land of swollen glass

“this room is dust and failed reconciliation…”

“I didn’t yet know to beg back. my dichotomy bereaved, my mother myself. this room is dust and failed reconciliation—child eyes unable to see me anywhere but here.”

Interruption

“silence. the sound of heavy rain shying away from children in tired cars slowing to stare at the crash.”

summer of red scares

“i’d rather hear imaginary politics and identical ads than admit that i would have emptied my gut onto a table…”

“CNN or FOX or some made-up-thought seeps into the silence; i’d rather hear imaginary politics and identical ads than admit that i would have emptied my gut onto a table if it meant i could clot virginity at the back of my throat like some sickness benign.”