When Tori Bush’s father died of chemical causes related to Agent Orange, she found herself obsessed with tracing dioxins, one of the main ingredient of Agent Orange in other American communities. She began to visit and interview residents of Mossville, Louisiana, a small town on the border of Texas, which has fourteen petrochemical facilities surrounding the town. The residents also had been exposed to dioxins. Grief and anger connected Tori to this story, but it is far larger—is the right to a healthy natural environment a part of our American citizenship?

My purpose in writing this collection of lyric essays is to examine my evolution during one decade, from age 19 to 29. Essential questions have guided me: What stimulated change? What formed my decisions? What predisposed me to my relationship with my partner? Why did I want to have a child? What kind of relationship do I have with my son? How did my relationship with my partner evolve? Why did we decide to leave Miami? Hopefully, I have given the reader a glimpse into my movement from self-centeredness to motherhood, from aloof adolescent to committed partner, from timid daughter to self-aware individual. The nature of my inquiry led me to confessional conclusions that clarified my reactive behavior or lack of initiative, which my initial memories of the same events often disguised. These confessions are sometimes as satisfying as the more celebratory moments themselves, because they challenge older notions of self and invite the possibility of change. Specific authors who have provided models of substance and style include, but are not limited to Annie Dillard, Maxine Hong Kingston, Sharon Olds, Michael Ondaatje, and Richard Rodriguez. I use lyrical techniques to translate my experiences into crafted prose. I incorporate recurring lines to create links between essays that stand alone, thereby forming a sequence. Some experiences are so personal and specific to me that using an adopted form, such as a repurposed fairy tale, a cento, and the inverted pyramid, has allowed me to create a measure of distance from the subject, which I found necessary for rendering it clearly. I allude to specific songs to help me establish exposition and lend tone and texture to my scenes. I chose to use the second person and direct my words to a specific audience, such as my mother, my partner, or my son, because at times it feels more authentic to let the reader listen to the way I speak to that person than to tell about the relationship. I also chose to capture the voices of certain people speaking directly to me in order to establish the most authentic speaker. My effort to answer essential questions sometimes conjured scenes from the distant past. I use line breaks to let the reader fill in the gaps or make the leap to explore connections across time. Juxtaposition and prolepsis link these tableaus so the reader can see my life and uncover the answers along with me.

I miss the smell of orange blossoms, which used to flood the countryside. But as a city grows, the land surrounding it dies. You cannot roll down your windows anymore and smell the sweet scent dancing off the buds. You will however find impressive theme parks, factory-style chain stores and restaurants. If you look close enough, you'll also see disgruntled souls of a once naturally spectacular culture of people. Laid back like the sands of Florida's coast. But now there are bills, traffic, and IKEA. This collection of essays is an attempt to escape such an experience. To explain such an existence, and to explore an eschewal from the inevitable, retail therapy. Xanthomonas axonopodis, often known as citrus cankers, is a bacterial disease affecting most citrus species. Dead tissue forms, then slowly grows, and consumes, then kills the fruits of labor. Grapefruits are the most susceptible to the disease. There was an outbreak from 1910, to 1931. Another from 1986 to 1994, and rumors sprang less than a year later stating the canker was back. To solve most outbreaks, famers and officials just burn the trees to complete, and utter ash. In 2006, the USDA stated eradication of the disease was impossible. If this sounds like cancer, the trust me, you’re not crazy. Florida is known for its beaches, hospitality, and it’s citrus.

Oftentimes, the children of immigrants find themselves straddling two worlds. As Americanized minorities, we navigate torn psychological landscapes in which uneasy dichotomies are formed: living up to our parents' expectations, or fulfilling our own; embracing tradition, or birthing a new culture; admiring the lives of our family, but wanting different for ourselves. These tough decisions are further compounded by identifiers such as age, race, and gender. My creative thesis, a collection of fiction and nonfiction, examines these issues through three central characters. In fiction, they are the Latina sisters Mel and Nena; in nonfiction, it is myself. Through these stories, these young women struggle to feel a sense of belonging where they are, be it at home, work, or school; among friends or on their own; in places they choose, or in places where they are put. Each of these characters is forced to consider whether they will ever find a place to call home. They wonder whether that is a place to be found at all.

"Amidst a Bottled Word: Poetry and Prose" includes a variety of different themes, styles, and genre—many reflecting a cynical or ironic tone. This eclectic thesis reflects the wide-ranging interest of its creator. The stories within this collection are a thriller and a work of speculative fiction, the former supernatural and the latter near future or science fiction. In one story, "The Man Behind the Curtain," Val, the older of two young sisters, must protect herself and her sister while enduring a weekend visit to her estranged Grandparents' house, while signs of a mysterious man keep emerging throughout their stay. The futuristic story, "Life.exe," details a man overcoming his own personal dystopia by finding comfort within the arms of an inadvertently purchased robotic companion. Additionally, the poems within the collection deal with failed love, anxiety, isolation, and despair. Finally, the thesis also includes an essay, "The Schism Past Skin," expounding on race, ethnicity and how people make assumptions of others based on appearance.

Niña de Cristal | Girl of Glass is a collection of essays focusing on how emotional sensitivity and identity converge through several lenses, but primarily through a mother-daughter relationship. In the title essay, "Niña de Cristal," the narrator's mother accuses her of being too fragile, a girl made of glass, and the narrator must contend with the instances in her life that caused the fragility. The first section explores generational trauma through lyrical essays about the narrator's separation from her family after her immigration to the U.S. from Uruguay. In "Daughter Language," the glossary form showcases her family's difficult history and the ways that language kept them connected despite the distance. The second section investigates the narrator's feelings on body image and desire. In "Body's Very Good Day," the narrator perceives herself as just a body and unpacks the detriments of how her upbringing emphasized self-image. Through the "I have a dead dog…" flash essays, the third section invites readers to see how the narrator experiences the pain of absence and grief after the death of her childhood dog. The fourth section details the narrator's struggle as a caretaker during her mother's battle with cancer. "the doctor says i must milk her body" leans into fantastical elements that highlight the chaos and absurdity of being powerless over a serious illness. The collection ends with "In Memory of The Perfect Body," which shows the lingering effects of knowing that her mother, the person she loves most, is also fragile. Niña de Cristal | Girl of Glass is a collection that acts as a mirror, demonstrating how the narrator and her mother's emotional sensitivities reflect each other.

A creative nonfiction thesis, Luke's Mama is a memoir of personal essays that explore how the birth of my son has affected the ways that I relate within and interpret different areas of my life. Chapter I, Introduction, identifies personal and ethical concerns involved in telling my story and explores how others have handled similar issues. Chapter II, Family, illustrates how my relationship with my family of origin has changed since I've become a parent and also how my new family and I interact with society. Chapter III, Calling, depicts my struggle in finding a balance between work and family priorities. Chapter IV, Partner, presents a contrast between my relationship with my partner before and after my son's birth. Chapter V, Parent, displays the beginning of my ever-growing relationship with my son and sense of parenthood.

This is a collection of short stories and memories from the eight places that I have lived. Through these stories and memories, I reflect on themes of identity and community. I also consider the idea of home: what defines a home, how we make a place feel like a home, and what transforms a city or a town into a home. Each chapter also includes my own original designs and photographs. The stories about Sharon and Westwood, small towns in Massachusetts, focus on childhood and familial relationships. The narratives about St. Louis, Missouri and Toluca Lake, California, consider the transition from childhood to adulthood. Meanwhile, the memories from Claremont, California, Silver Lake, California and Santa Monica, California all meditate on the idea of belonging. Lastly, the recollections from London, England, contemplate how a foreign city can become a home.

Since long before her death, and up to our present day, critics, scholars and readers have considered the body of work by Virginia Woolf in the reflection of a gloomy light. This wide opinion, if not directly caused, is at least enhanced by her numerous negative and even traumatic life experiences. Very little attention has been paid, or focus put, even by the most thorough and astute Woolf scholars, on another aspect of Woolf’s life and of her work. This thesis reveals another side of Woolf not only as a funny and entertaining woman, but as a sufficiently masterful manipulator of her craft to have used her fiction writing talent as an enhancement of her nonfiction works, and which included humor in the process.

Plowing by Moonlight is a creative nonfiction exploration of the relationship between the people of Bainbridge Island, Washington, and the food they grow, eat, and share.