https://www.maryalter.com/home daily 1.0 2022-05-04 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/605a150d8457f22076153d67/1616775233685-99Z0NX6SJXJ1HQ6P1RHW/IMG_1486.JPG Home https://www.maryalter.com/about daily 0.75 2022-05-04 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/605a150d8457f22076153d67/1616775565499-H88P60UMISW074B4RTF1/IMG_8367.jpg About - Mary Alter: A Little About Mary Alter is a freelance writer. She received a Bachelors Degree at Fordham University Lincoln Center. There, she majored in English with a concentration in Creative Writing, and has two minors: Environmental Studies and Film and Television. When not writing, she can be found reading at her family’s home on Long Island, or at the barn—she has been competitively riding horses since she was four years old. Currently, Mary is working on a documentary for See It Now Studios and CBS News as a Broadcast Associate. Here she is able to combine her love for storytelling with the ability to produce documentaries about serious issues affecting the US. Please reach out with any questions, comments, or just to chat! https://www.maryalter.com/recent-publications daily 0.75 2021-03-28 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/605a150d8457f22076153d67/1616967382130-X5CLLWIYD0JP7KER0KXE/image.jpeg Recent Publications - The Spirit it Travels: An Anthology of Transcendent Poetry Find Mary Alter’s poem “Drive Without Destination” featured in this Cosmographia Books poetry anthology! https://www.maryalter.com/portfolio daily 0.75 2022-05-04 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/605a150d8457f22076153d67/1616966721865-QN4VEDY7O1C9Y9TOZEX7/DSC_6061.JPG Resume and Portfolio https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/605a150d8457f22076153d67/1616966878523-QU9S7DN0P3DIZISG0AQ2/DSC_6142.JPG Resume and Portfolio https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/605a150d8457f22076153d67/1616966793413-737DTEA15DXMCVW7ZXBE/DSC_7884.JPG Resume and Portfolio https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/605a150d8457f22076153d67/1616967974430-WSCSKP6JSX7TIQZYE8SM/DSC_7961.JPG Resume and Portfolio - Excerpt from All That Glitters “George didn’t know why he was plagued with such a deep and vivid memory. There were so many people he knew that had gotten to his age, many even younger, and lost much of their memory. His seemed to only improve with age, the memories growing stronger and more intense, the emotions overwhelming his senses even more than they did when it was actually happening. With tears in his throat that threatened to choke him, George put the old photograph down. He felt more grown up when that photo was being taken than he did now, but it didn’t matter. He had to focus. There were only a few more hours of light in the sky, and if he didn’t get quick to repair the holes in the house and the windows, then he’d freeze overnight. He worked much of the rest of the day, nailing bits of wood over cracks in the old wood. He tested the wood-burning stove and nothing exploded, so he felt that it was a good sign.. He went outside to the little porch that sat in the front of the house. There was an old rocking chair that once stood there, but it was in pieces now and unrecognizable. George tried not to let it affect him, but inside he felt like the rotting pieces of wood himself. It didn’t slip past him that he was just as old as that rocking chair and, somehow, he thought that he could survive a month here. He tried not to dwell on it. He always knew that the clearing was at the top of the mountain, almost the peak, but as a child he never stopped to realize just how high up he was here. The entire state, it seemed, was stretched before him. He could see the little houses and stores of Olympia, and he knew at night that their lights would dot the dark ground like stars in reverse. “ https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/605a150d8457f22076153d67/1616966939331-SEBS4SLVM08HCRNX73A0/DSC_4814.JPG Resume and Portfolio - The Duplicity of Tomorrow Tomorrow’s never certain That’s what they always say. Why do I feel so hurt, then If it lasts only for today? The snow melts my skin, I’m freezing The trees look on and laugh As I stand waiting for the season To unstick me from this path. An owl lands above me “Who?” It has to ask I cannot seem to get free From the self they want to unmask. I close my eyes and breathe in The smoke from the baffled fire That my brain keeps lighting again Even when it starts to tire. I see the daylight dancing Across the snow-capped peaks And though the forest keeps advancing For once its current feels weak. There will be another moment Where I won’t know how to stay But for now my feet are frozen Because they were made this way. I think tomorrow’s certain From a whisper through the wind Of a turning earthbound burden Not allowed to spark the end.