Sarah Hepola
News

March 11, 2019

Uncertain, Texas

My cabin in the woods experience

A few years ago, I threw my clothes in the bright green suitcase with the broken zipper, slung my guitar in the back seat, and drove to Uncertain, Texas. I had searched for cabin get-aways within a few hours’ drive from my home in Dallas, places like Broken Bow and Beavers Bend and Turner Falls, . . . Read More

January 17, 2019

A hideaway in the mists of cyberspace

Introducing the new and improved sarahhepola.com

In the spring of 2001, I decided to start my own website. Actually, I decided to quit my job at the Austin paper, travel to Ecuador to learn Spanish, and also start my own website, where I planned to share stories of my adventures. I didn’t like the idea of spamming my friend circle with . . . Read More

December 31, 2018

Change

Thoughts on holidays blues and New Year's resolutions

I started getting low around the holidays in my 20s, probably. Something about feeling spat out from the optimism of childhood. It’s almost charming to me now, how early I started feeling old. I liked holidays parties, of course, with their cranberry-colored cocktails, one endless glass of red wine, a little dose of amnesia to . . . Read More

December 27, 2018

The slow and uncertain process of filling it in

A trip to the Penny Grave

The road back from a road trip can be a drag. I’d taken three luxurious days to drive out to West Texas, drawing a crooked line to the left corner of the state, but I was returning to Dallas in one long afternoon, a mostly straight line along the bright blue vein of an interstate. . . . Read More

December 2, 2018

You were right about the stars. Each one is a setting sun.*

Deep in the left arm of Texas

Last July, Texas Highways magazine asked if I had anything to write about, well, Texas highways. Oooh, I did. At least, I had an idea for a trip I’d like to take — out west, where the stars burn so brightly in the sky they look like pinholes punched in black velvet. (A line I . . . Read More

November 21, 2018

Saturday in New York City

A small and lovely adventure

Last Saturday morning, I woke before dawn in the cozy loft bedroom of my friends’ Tribeca apartment. For mysterious reasons, I’ve been waking up early for the past two months, sometimes as early as 3:30am. I badly wish I could sleep longer, but I’ve also grown fond of these dim and hushed hours before the . . . Read More

October 25, 2018

Max, who lived upstairs

On the perils — and joys — of a three-day relationship

In my last year of college, I lived on the lower level of a condo on a side street so quiet it was almost spooky. My two roommates and I spent a lot of our time on the front patio chain-smoking and drinking beer and wine at a bistro table placed there for that purpose. . . . Read More

September 29, 2018

Indelible in the hippocampus

It is both easy and common to drink, act and then have no memory of it.

I did not expect to write a story about the contentious nomination of Brett Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court.  Some of my best friends are lawyers (did that sound weird?), but this is not my territory, riveting as the drama may be. But on Thursday, I watched the hearing, sitting on my parents’ couch from . . . Read More

August 28, 2018

Palm readings, past present and future

Two people are blocking my path to happiness. Please reveal yourselves

I was walking down West 15th in Manhattan when I saw the street fair, and a sign caught my eye: Psychic Readings, $5. The sign was old and maroon and marked by excessive cursive, like a laminated menu that hasn’t been updated since the 80s. The woman in the fold-out chair waved me toward her. . . . Read More

August 12, 2018

Gus the dog.

Memories of a family pet

My brother’s friend spotted the dog in the park. Shivering, starving, skin pocked with flea bites. “Someone needs to take this dog home,” the guy said, and my brother — perhaps even surprising himself — got an idea. My brother and I never had a dog growing up. Our family rented a modest home, and . . . Read More