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A Drive
I put on socks and shoes for the first time in days. Still comfortable, nothing too fancy. If I wanted to, I could go for a walk, and I could walk for a mile or two without getting blisters. I brush my hair. Pull it into a ponytail. My phone, wallet, and mask are on…
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Playlists
At the keyboard, waiting for words to come, I often flip over to Spotify, looking for new playlists. Always hunting for some melody, some tangible experience I haven’t heard before. Triggering some thought I haven’t thought before. I ask friends on Facebook for songs and create new playlists. I browse playlists already created in genres…
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Predictability & control
The chaotic world is trying to get in again. I feel it in the way I want to research things – like how to create vaccines, or running for public office, or how much a billion dollars is really worth. I’ve run out of “free reads” for The New York Times, The Atlantic, Wired, and…
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Rewriting the Bard: Julius Caesar
Cassius: Did Cicero say anything? Casca: Ay, she spoke Greek. Cassius: To what effect? Casca: Nay, an I tell you that, I’ll ne’er look you i’th’face again. But those that understood her smiled at one another, and shook their heads. But for mine own part, it was Greek to me. William Shakespeare: Julius Caesar, Act…
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The Yellow Manuscript by Jenny Maloney
New American Legends just picked up my longer-than-100-word short story “The Yellow Manuscript.” You can check it out here.
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A Castle of One’s Own
Edith Wharton and Virginia Woolf, despite having friends in common and despite both being talented and respected female writers working at the turn of the 20th century, apparently did not admire each other’s work. Woolf’s new-fangled modern stylings (stream-of-conscious, no distinct plot-line) didn’t resonate with Wharton. And Wharton’s style (structured storylines) was representative of writing…
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The Ghost in the Machine
Mary Shelley’s “On Ghosts” is an interesting little article/essay. It’s more of a meditation on: With all the scientific advancements, with all the mysteries being explained, do we truly not believe in ghosts anymore? She begins by pointing out that myths and legends are just that: myths and legends, stories once told by unenlightened cavemen.…
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White Paper – Wilt Thou Be My Confident?: Grief and Creation
On July 8, 1822, poet Percy Bysshe Shelley died in a boating accident. Months later, Mary Shelley wrote the following in her journal: If you ever get the chance to read the whole entry, it will break your heart. (If you’re not a cold-hearted bastard, that is.) She continues to explain how the only comfort…
Got any book recommendations?