Miracles don’t appear on demand, to deliver happy plot twists. They storm stories too weak to resist.
I am writing this entry to clarify my thoughts on the latest swerve in my journey towards publication, and light this stretch of path for other writers. If you have written a book you always assumed would at least be published by a small press, if not one of the Big Five, and you are half-welcoming, half-dreading the prospect of releasing that assumption – this post is for you. Continue reading
Four months after sending my memoir manuscript to a small press (at their request), I mustered the gumption to write them and ask for a rough sense of when they might make a decision. Four days have passed; I haven’t heard back. This lack of response does not give me any definite information about the press, or the status of my manuscript; how I feel, in relation to it, does give me information about how I might like to proceed. Continue reading
We all want to know where our food comes from, right? Or anyway we find it soothing, when dining out, to see a list of farms on the menu. That way, we can pretend that every item on our plate – even the Tater Tots! – was grown by a jolly hipster with a pitchfork.
One Brooklyn eatery is building its brand around providing patrons with even more information about their food’s origins – some might say, too much.
The first thing you see, when you step through the door of Poop to Table, Continue reading
For the past three weeks, I’ve been devoting almost all my writing time to paying work. Today I’m in between assignments – and considering a morality trap I’ve fallen into, with regard to pay.
A year ago I took a gig with a local business that makes heroic efforts to slim the waste stream. I admire this business and its owner: I’m all for collecting food waste by trike; at the time, I still believed in recycling. And so, as I saw it, I was getting paid to Do a Good Thing. For a short time, this story reconciled me to low hourly pay and powered me past my disgust at having to handle countless dog poops in small translucent bags.
Then, two events – one physical, one mental – intervened: Continue reading
I leave Earthaven (for Asheville, then Greenville, then Beacon) tomorrow morning. This time, I’ve been here two weeks. In those two weeks, I’ve taken a class in natural building (involving cob, clay wattle, base plaster, finish plaster, and earthen paint). I’ve explored the Medicine Wheel jungle garden (while harvesting cherry tomatoes, which lead you from spot to spot, like blazes on a bright trail, until you’ve roamed every spur). I’ve eaten weed salad (mint, wood sorrel, lemon balm, basil) for breakfast almost every day. Continue reading