Well, here we are at the beginning of a shiny new year. As I’ve said in previous years, I don’t really tend to make resolutions. I’ve found they don’t really work for me. When I’m ready to make a change or do something I need to, I just do it; trying to force myself to do that when I’m not ready just leads to feeling like a failure and no one wants that. Which isn’t to say I don’t have vague hopes and goals, but those have more to do with my usual sense of wanting to improve than with
So I have some news. Some pretty big news. Some pretty rad news. Some pretty big and rad news. Which is this: I’ve recently signed on as a client of literary agent Hannah Bowman, of Liza Dawson Associates Literary Agency. Holy crap, wow. This is something I have been working towards for a long, long time. As a kid, I scrawled stories in my school notes. I filled up floppy disk after floppy disk with stories.1 I read constantly and knew I wanted to someday be a writer and publish a book. Not that I knew how to do that.
First thing’s first, here is a cool new thing in my life: I have been recruited as a submissions editor for Apex Magazine! Which sounds quite fancy and exciting, but all it actually means is that I’m a slush reader. Which, for friends and family who don’t know publishing terms, means that I’m one of the first readers whenever someone submits a story for the magazine. (I screen to see if submitted stories meet the quality and content needs of the magazine, send a no-thanks letter for anything that doesn’t fit, and pass up the chain anything that does.) The
Like I said last year, I don’t like to make resolutions. But I do like to look back at the previous year and figure out ways I moved forward in my life — I don’t like feeling stagnant. So here’s what I think about when I think back to 2013:
Becky: omg. I just realized that one of my white streaks is actually right on my forehead. What if I’m Polgara? What if I can do magic now? SisterRoomie: Sure. Just don’t touch the Orb. Becky: But I have a birthmark on my hand. WHAT IF I’M THE RIVAN KING???
Just to forewarn anyone who might think this leadup is going to something inspiring or moving or dramatic: this blog entry is going to be about nailpolish. Here’s a thing about how I handle New Years: I don’t really make resolutions. My basic theory is that if there’s something I want to change, I probably just… will, when I’m ready to, and if I’m not ready to yet, all resolving to do it will do is make me feel like a failure when I don’t do it. But my general goal is to feel like I’ve made some sort of
Why hello, there. So there was a storm in the city this week. I don’t think I can say much about it that hasn’t been said.1 So instead, here’s what I was doing in the hours before Sandy hit: I was at Books of Wonder, getting a chance to tell Bruce Coville that his books shaped my childhood, changed my life, and meant the world to me. Many years ago I wrote an overview review of some of his books that meant the most to me as a kid. Shortly after I wrote that blog entry, I went about tracking
The scene: as I’m leaving my BFF’s apartment, I see a just-barely-toddler aged kid playing on the railing of the ramp next to the entrance stairs. Two 20-something dudes were exiting behind me. Dude #1: Whoa, bro. Look at that little guy. Dude #2: You go, baby. The whole world’s your junglegym. Dude #1: That kid’s like a baby parkour champion. Dude #2: Baby Parkour should be our new tumblr.
Sometimes, I am very much my father’s daughter. You see, at our family Chanukah party last month, my dad and I got into an argument (the type that’s probably better described as a friendly bickerment) about cell phones. Dad had just gotten a new phone, and when he purchased it, he had the nice Verizon employee switch off all potential web browsing, email, general internet, and even text messaging options. My dad wants a phone. He wants to be able to call people and have them call him. That’s all he wants. All of which is fine and dandy. Not
I ran some errands during my lunch break yesterday. I had some checks to deposit and the most convenient place is a cramped ATM vestibule near my office. It has four ATMs, but no space for anyone waiting to stand, and when I got there they were all busy. I stood near-ish to the last one, with a line of people who came in behind me, so it was pretty crowded; I was wearing my headphones and listening to my iPod, which is true of about 90% of the time I’m outside my apartment.1 I was endorsing a check, writing