Writer @ Work
“There are no longer problems of the spirit. Because of this, the young man or woman writing today has forgotten the problems of the human heart in conflict with itself which alone can make good writing because only that is worth writing about, worth the agony and the sweat.”
-William Faulkner
The Ache that Blankets the World
I’m thrilled to announce my first work to be published in my alma mater’s literary magazine: BYU Inscape Journal. This piece explores the mental illness that runs in my family and, mostly likely, in yours.
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The Legend of Scarface
This is the picture of my sixth grade class at Cascade Elementary during the 1985-1986 school year. In February, we experienced a traumatic (to us at least) experience during a girl’s overnight trip to a local winter…
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Ode to all the Books I’ve Loved Before
I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel as my thirteen-year-old son fumes in the front seat beside me. We turn south out of the city library’s parking lot. His words flatten me like a leaf between the pages of…
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Give that Dog a Bone
This picture of Wade was taken over twenty years ago during a trip to Costa Rica in the pre-kid years of our marriage. He is offering the T-bone from his steak dinner to a scrawny dog he…
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Hope the Color of Gray
The day my mom died of complications from a brain aneurysm, the entertainment media reported the breakup of Miley Cyrus’ parents. The rumor mill hinted of an alleged affair between Miley’s mother and the rocker Bret Michaels…
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What We Learned from Sam-I-Am
Back in 2019, before the world changed forever, my family took a trip to Brazil. We are not world travelers but wanted a chance to unmask another culture for our children and experience the wonders of the…
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9/11: The Day the World Stopped Turning
We’ll remember the moment the news came — where we were and what we were doing. -George W. Bush I have my story of the day, just like you. You remember. It was a Tuesday. The most…
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Autobiography of My Face
This unflattering photo of me was taken in 2009 about a month after surgery on my jaw that changed my appearance so drastically that some of my friends did not recognize me. (Clearly, I was still recovering…
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In Defense of Sam
During the Christmas holidays every year, my family watches the epic trilogy of The Lord of the Rings. It’s tradition, you see, and even though my husband and oldest son groaned when I brought it up last…
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For My Missionary Son
Today, you are boarding a plane to Texas where you will spend the next two years preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ. Afterwards, you plan to attend college in a distant town. The time has come for…
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During These Coronial Times
I woke up one morning one week into the coronavirus quarantine and wondered if I’d been wrong about it, if it really was the crisis everyone believed it to be. The 5.7 earthquake from the day before…
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The Truth About Santa Claus
My essay for this month will not be posted here, because it was accepted and published by The RavensPerch, an online literary magazine. (I could not be more thrilled!) You can find it here: https://www.theravensperch.com/the-truth-about-santa-claus-by-kristen-ott-hogan/ The staff…
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Taming the Deer
There is something in the way my daughter cuts across the soccer field after another game that makes me afraid. Her body sags with defeat even though her team won the game. “Good job.” I hug her.…
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Statistically Speaking
We hear the question often. What are the odds? What are the chances? It’s a question of probability, of likelihood. What are the odds of winning big in a Las Vegas casino? What are the odds of…
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Third Grade Cinderella
I once bribed two girls to be my friends. It all started when I made the colossal mistake of inviting that girl Kim to play with us at recess. Julie and I had been best friends since…
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The Reason Why
The mother is heroic at the viewing. She comforts the disheveled tweens who swell in mass to the casket’s edge. She thanks them for being a good friend to her son. She hugs each mourner in their…
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The Sound of Seagulls
*Some names have been changed The evening we met Hilda was gray and full of shadows. Her hands were thrust deep into the pockets of an ankle-length trench coat, as she stepped onto the cobblestone street. We…
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Beauty for Ashes
I’d jammed my day with tasks, every minute accounted for and assigned a purpose. My checklist included a trip to the orthodontist, scrubbing the shower, reading with the kids, writing in the morning and again in the…
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A writer’s life or children?
Before I started having children, I attended a writer’s workshop in Salt Lake City. Five hundred dollars to attend classes and panels discussions, meet editors and agents. I remember one such panel vividly, five or six successful…
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kristenhogan 
I love to read everything you write!