Break Free With Karen Hunt

I’ve been having a great time writing on Substack! My essay “The Demonization of the Unvaxxed” has been viewed 19,817 times, as of today. In all, since I started in April. Overall, my essays have been viewed close to 50,000 unique times.

The Demonization of the Unvaxxed

“Children are the vessels into which adults pour their poison.” ~ Salman Rushdie, Midnight’s Children

Follow me on Substack at Break Free with Karen Hunt

writing free of censorship If you are interested in reading more of my writing in a more writerly friendly format, please check out at Break Free with Karen Hunt (substack.com) Here is an example of my latest writing The Problem of Faith – Break Free with Karen Hunt (substack.com) about my childhood experiences with my […]

The Power of Words

I well remember walking out from that last board meeting in a high rise in Century City, and taking the elevator down to the street. When I reached the bottom floor and went outside, I looked back up at where I had been. I would never reach those heights again and it didn’t matter. I felt an incredible weight lifting from my shoulders. I had done what I knew was right. I was free.

Hey Wake Up!!!

Three times a week or so I walk/run down to Whole Foods and back and it’s a long way, it takes me maybe three hours. Once I’m there I get some tea and sushi and sit outside and clear my head and I feel the tension drift away. I get some of my best ideas […]

The Reluctant Revolutionary

In the moment that I wrote death to Khomeini, I wasn’t thinking about how I might be prosecuted or even executed for my actions. If I had, I wouldn’t have done it.

This Game of Life, Chapter 1 of A Dangerous Woman

The murder happened by the water. Silvia knew who was responsible: Gerardo, the man of her dreams, her only love, the one who made her feel like she was the luckiest girl on earth.

Trouble in Paradise

A few months ago I walked out of my house to find a razor sharp javelin stuck in the middle of my front door. It was at eye level, right where my forehead would have been if I’d opened the small window in the door. I guess if I’d looked, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d be dead.

Collision

We all have two parts to ourselves.

White Dove

His words are a white dove that flies to a sacred destination, through the canyons of my brain, over the ocean of my inner body, and finally to the sacred mesa of my tattered heart.