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The season. The seasons. The many, many seasons.
I think this is meant to represent a tree as it moves through the rather more famous Four Seasons. But it kind of looks to me like the tree is moving through hell at a certain point. As I drove past a...
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On the liking of things.
A thing I like precisely and exactly as much as I should. I weary of posting little but Israel/Palestine posts and open threads! But I have little in mind to write. And thus, I fall back on my old...
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Things I miss.
I miss the sound of manual typewriters. Typewriters sound like you’re actually doing something, like sentences are being yanked into the world, possibly against their better judgement, and when all is...
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Why I’ll never be fancy.
I will never be fancy. I can fake it, if needs be, but I assure you dear reader: It’s all a ruse. First of all, there’s the walking. I fall off my heels. I fall off my heels when I’m barefoot. I trip...
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Things that always take too much time.
In the grand scheme of things, the fact that we get a full twenty-four hours in every.single.day seems like a decent number of time units. I mean: 24! That’s not a small number, you know? And yet. They...
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A few notes on Girls [& not just that one episode] because apparently that’s...
As anyone who pays attention to pop culture knows, Girls has raised something of a ruckus since its first airing. At first the ruckus was good, then it was a little back-lashy, then Girls had the...
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Seeking: Poorly paid position as lackey.
(Back in high school, I did actually work on a printing press for a couple of years. Not one quite this old, though). Yesterday I learned that my friend Shaun, a writer, writing teacher, editor, and...
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On not paying for work done.
I still have the aforementioned oddly fever-ish condition, so I’m not likely to be of much use today, but I wanted to say this: A kerfuffle arose yesterday when a writer blogged about being offered to...
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Here’s the other thing about how writers are paid.
The current discussion/mudslinging about how writers/journalists/reporters (etc) are or are not paid is, I think, important, enlightening, and long overdue. I made my own wee contribution here; here’s...
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Found words, tucked into a used book.
About ten or eleven years ago, my friend Shaun came on a visit from London. He was reading Andrea Levy’s Fruit of the Lemon at the time, and he left it for me — and a decade or more later, I finally...
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“Follow your passion”– ha. Ha! Hahahaha! No, but seriously.
Um. It’s graduation season, and as in every graduation season, one hears a lot of successful people telling halls of not-yet-successful-people to “follow their passion.” Following one’s passion is, we...
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Getting a handle on my tools.
My early childhood was fairly peripatetic, but when that part of it ended, around 5th grade, we moved in across the street from the town library. Having been raised by a librarian, moving in across the...
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My brain, the weasel.
In a wild and woolly happenstance, The Bloggess (who, if you’re unfamiliar, is kind of a Big Deal on The Internet as well as Among Geeks) wrote essentially the same post I wrote yesterday. Only her’s...
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I have not forgotten you + pretty pictures.
It occurs to me that it has been some time since I posted what I think of as a “real” post at this blog, that is: not something crossposted from Open Zion, not something reupped from the archives, and...
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And I had to walk uphill both ways.
Reupping this from two years ago, almost to the day — because it’s all true all over again!!1! /passes out I don’t know if you’ve heard, but it’s been hot. Hot in the Middle West, hot in the South, hot...
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Who gets to decide what’s normal?
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the broad American social struggle of the past 60-odd years, about what ties the whole messy package together. I’ve been thinking about how for the vast majority...
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Resolved: It’s ok for creative people to not be consumed with self-loathing.
I am, rather famously (for some, very limited values of “famously”), a writer. I’ve considered myself a writer since somewhere around late-junior-high, and for a sizeable chunk of my life, I’ve...
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Too much information running through my brain.
It feels like there is everything and nothing to write about. Everywhere, everyone is talking about the government shutdown – I don’t want to talk about that. It frightens me and makes me sad, and then...
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The stories we choose.
I just got back from a walk (a thing I have almost literally [in the literal sense of "literally"] not been able to do for the better part of six weeks) and here is what I found myself thinking about:...
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The wilderness of life.
I’ve often said that there’s nothing more punk than love, but I think Columbia Journalism Review’s Anna Clark has me beat in the punk department.
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