Which, Let’s Face It, I Know a Fair Amount About. Like most people, I’ve led an unusual life. For me, part of its unorthodoxy is my insistence on trying to make a living as a writer. Let’s just say, it’s been an uphill climb. But occasionally I comfort myself with the knowledge that there areContinue reading “A Mercifully Brief Post About Knowing Nothing.”
If you expect the Art Gods to act is if they have any interest in fairness, let alone thinking that all of your toil and hours of sacrifice somehow obligates them to give you a helping hand, you haven’t been paying attention.
OF COURSE YOU DO, FRANKLY, WHO COULD RESIST SUCH A GREAT TEASER? The good news: this will be a short post. The bad news: I’ll be acting as if I know something. And I think it’s only fair to reming everyone of the late, great William Goldman wrote, “Nobody knows anything.” So, that said, letContinue reading “Who Wants Hear Me Pontificate About Monologues?*”
Like anything else humans are or do, humor is equally equipped to salve or savage, to poison or purify, to nurse wounds or grudges. But please, rest assured I will in no way attempt to explain the nature of comedy, or what makes something “funny.”
“HOW HARD IT IS TO BE SIMPLE!” – VINCENT VAN GOGH, IN A LETTER TO HIS BROTHER, THEO I start with this quote not merely to lend my post an unearned credibility by associating it with the sentiments of a genius, but because I find it an amazingly true insight into creativity and, ugh, I’llContinue reading “ONE OF THE MANY REASONS I’M NOT INVITED TO A LOT OF PARTIES”
Why I’ve Been Gone For So Long, And Why It’s Totally FINE You Didn’t Notice. Seriously. It feels like a long time since I’ve posted on here; it’s likely you, with your busy lives crammed with saving democracy, binging various food-themed shows, and (if you’re like me) binging on actual food haven’t noticed my absence,Continue reading “Hey There, Strangers!”
To be an artist or writer means to become intimately acquainted with rejection.
Everything changes at the holidays. Even seminal works of literature.
one of the really freeing things about nonfiction for me is that I can say “I don’t know. I don’t remember.” I love that. I value honesty a lot, which is I think what allows me to bypass that “I don’t want people to know this” filter, so the ability to admit that I’m not sure if X happened in Y way or Z way is really more about honesty than my stoner memory.
There is no magical formula.