“We just met on the Internet. … Wait, that’s not what it sounds like!”

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Nothing wrong with meeting on the Internet, of course! But the phrase sounded funny when I used it to describe my relationship to musician and writer Mariel Beaumont as I blew in to Brooklyn’s Knitting Factory a few nights ago in search of her and not sure I’d recognize her.

Mariel wrote to me last week to say she enjoyed this interview about vinyl record collectors I wrote for Medium and asked if I had any tips for promoting work on the site. While I was super-stoked to get a shout from someone I didn’t know, I had to be super-disappointing and let Mariel know that all the strokes that article’s gotten have been courtesy of the Dust & Grooves publicity machine; no marketing genius of mine.

Church Girls

Mariel (female) with her band. One of these guys is her twin brother!

We got to talking just the same and I learned her band Church Girls was going to be up from Philly in just a few days to play a show. I told her I’d try to make it, she told me she’d put me on the list, and—this outcome is far too infrequent—we both did what we said!

After I made a few wrong guesses, she spotted me in the crowd, we chatted for a bit, I heard Church Girls’ très bon indie/post-punk/folk-type set (with a few ripping guitar solos and a little Sam Cooke thrown in), and she was even nice enough to procure me a secret beer from backstage. (Pro-tip for making friends: this effort never fails to impress.)

In addition to getting lots of love for her music from the persnickety press, Mariel has written some great stuff, including this story, on Medium, about some of the real-life lessons she took from an adolescence spent at DIY shows and basement clubs. (See, this is the extent of my marketing strategy: “Hey, blog readers—check this other article out!”)

Despite its inherent identity as a connector, we all know the Internet has a Jekyll and Hyde personality that can work to isolate us (and deluge us with crap) as well as it can bring us closer together. As something of a luddite, it’s nice for me to occasionally be reminded of the ability of tools like web publishing and email to allow us to meet new, actual people in real, physical places. So much the better when those people are genuinely cool, and offer you beer.

Tonight: Watch Jemima Kirke (of “Girls”) Interview an Ancient Alien at a Bushwick Film Premiere

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I’m lifting that line directly from my latest post on Bushwick Daily, because I’m doubtful it gets much more catchy-slash-confusing than that.

Rather like the explanation given to me by producer Eric Schmalenberger of the psychological thriller, comedy, sports, horror drama (psy-thrill-com-spo-ho-dra?) he’s debuting at a big variety show-type event at House of Yes tonight, entitled The Joanne Holiday Show:

“Claywoman is traveling 65 million light years to discuss humanity and metaphysics with Jemima Kirke. Also, we’ll be screening our film, in which psychedelic performance genius Erin Markey, fresh off the triumphant success of her one-of-a-kind musical A Ride on the Irish Cream, stars alongside the film’s writer, Michael Cavadias.”

Claywoman

Claywoman

“Plus, we’ll have Holly Miranda, who will break your heart; Jill Pangallo, who will deconstruct your heart; Will Janowitz, who will dress up as your heart; and Shane Shane, who will prance at your heart. Plus Dave Hill with an important video message!”

While (full transparency) I have never actually seen the show Girls, or caught any of Claywoman’s performances in the past 500 million years, I can tell from a simple Google image search that both Jemima Kirke and our ancient friend are pretty special, and I predict their conversation alone will be worth the cost of admission.

Not to mention the excitement of an ‘important video message’ getting piped in from this guy! Color me your newest fan, Mr. Hill.

I’m sure I’ll see you in Bushwick, my fellow psy-thrill-com-spo-ho-dra devotees! Another snowy night, another grip of good reasons to brave it.

Two great reasons to leave the house tonight (yes, in the snow)

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If you’re in or around NYC, guess what? More snow tonight!

“Boo hoo,” you say. “Go on and try to convince me why I should leave the house.”

WELL. One reason is Tahneer, and the other is Rachel.

Tahneer Oksman, Badass
Rachel Jones, Badass

First, the incomparable and lovely Tahneer Oksman will be at Chinatown’s Museum at Eldridge Street for the launch of her new (and first) book, “How Come Boys Get to Keep Their Noses?” Women and Jewish American Identity in Contemporary Graphic Memoirs. I know Tahneer’s husband Jon from the Park Slope Food Coop, and I used to babysit their older son. We’ve been through all that, and I still like them!

Then!, I’ll be biking back over the bridge (in the snow! such dedication!) to see my former neighbor-turned-friend Rachel Jones “talk to a bunch of drunks about pulling out” (her words). The Divine Ms. Jones will be holding court at The Bedford in Williamsburg for the February edition of the Society for the Advancement of Social Studies‘ lecture series. I imagine this one might get a little blue!

So if you’re up for some chilling snowflakes and piping hot talk, c’mon leave the house and join me!

“Incinerate Your Aversion to Performance Art” — new ink in Bushwick Daily

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Polaroid genius Nick McManus and I enjoyed a Roman candle-esque tenure at Bushwick Daily in 2014, and I’ve been milking the produce of our collaboration regularly since. (Nick has gone on to dizzying heights the likes of Flavorpill and some others that whizzed by my consciousness when he told me about them on the phone the other day. Whatever they are, dude, you know I’m mighty stoked for ya!)

Nick McManus Polaroid

Nick (middle, faceless) engaging in incidental performance art, per usual

I admit to dropping the ball with the Bushwick gang after that hat trick of party coverage, but our acquaintance was rekindled when I ran into its lovely crew at a pre-Christmas poetry reading. They were nice enough to say they’d entertain any new pitches I cared to share—a statement they’ll likely regret, but I’m psyched!

Here’s me picking up where I left off (except without Nick, malheureusement, as it’s hard to illustrate a preview of an event with a photo): a shorty about people who cover their faces in pizza dough and punch tubs of margarine—for art!

Up next: god only knows. NYC is perfectly unpredictable (see all of the above).

Getting around, mentally and physically

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Like Tupac and The Beach Boys, I get around—with my writing work, that is!

Tupac
The Beach Boys
Moi

One of the things I love most about freelancing is the unexpected places it takes me, topically and geographically. Last year, I trundled to the Bronx to cover a conference all about wood; wrote about a Taiwanese modern dance company‘s rebound from a devastating loss; and spoke with grassroots leaders in L.A. who are making their streets happier places to walk, bike, and even play—and that was just the beginning!

Pete, Justin, Bikash

Justin (center) with post-earthquake rebuilding partners Pete (left) and Bikash, plus a friendly clothesline

This year, I’m happy to be starting off with a similarly far-flung (to me) gig: an interview with Justin Den Herder, a senior structural engineer at NYC’s Silman Associates, about his experience volunteering for the Pilot Projects initiative Co-Build Kathmandu. Our story ran in the latest volume of cross sections, the magazine of the Structural Engineers Association of New York.

Justin is a smart, fun guy with miles of great stories to tell about his trip. Here’s a sample nugget:

“We wound up purchasing and donating 75, 70-pound bags of rice to people in a small village in Nagarkot,” he said. “One of the most impressive illustrations of Nepalese resiliency I saw during my trip—among many—was the image of old women coming to claim their bag of rice. I’d ask who was there to carry it home for them, and they’d just smile, take the bag from me, throw it over their shoulders, and walk straight up the mountain! I can’t imagine my grandmother doing that. I was struggling trying to lift these bags myself.”

Peep the whole interview here, and let’s give it up for getting around!

I laughed, I cried: The Holidays 2015

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Lots of laughs and a few tears—of happiness!—this holiday season.

We started off in the Pocono Mountains, on a tour of its famed, fading Honeymoon Hotels.

Initially, we’d picked this particular excursion for its renowned tackiness and kitsch—and there was plenty of that!—but we did also find ourselves drinking a bit of the kool-aid. These are “couples-only” resorts, so there are no kids around; it’s also not a desperation-dusted singles scene. We’d never participated in this exact type of scenario before, but by day two, we were feeling its effects, mostly characterized by an intoxicating influx of relaxation.

Love Machine shuttle
It’s a sign
In-room love pools
Requisite circular bed

Evidently, the air was so thick with romance that we lost our senses and (ready?) got engaged! Mr. Sock Monkey is holding the place of honor until further notice.

Sock Monkey

Dramatic reenactment

Before departing, we were able to see some of Pennsylvania’s many other points of interest:

Big honkin mushrooms
Canada Dry n’ hot dogs
A request, or the beginning of a lament?
Those puff ball things

Then it was off to Charleston, where we met Arthur’s family and our friends Danielle and Ryan for a festive few days of swamp-traipsing, firework-exploding, and remembering to mash the garage door button.

Mash this
Sally & Zach
Goin’ off
Coffee shop afternoon

Oh, to make this writing-related (and because it’s so cool), I’ll add here that the aforementioned Danielle is a fabulous writer and writing teacher; we met as fellow students in Emerson College’s creative writing program. Last year, Danielle was anthologized in The Best American Poetry 2015, edited by huge-wigs David Lehman and Sherman Alexie. Holla!! She was also just today published in the wonderful On Being blog. Love you, Dani!

I’m quite sure I’ll be writing about more of Danielle’s superhuman accomplishments in the year ahead, as well as about regional travel, cool families, notable signage, and mycelium. Looking forward to all.

Here’s looking at you, 2015! You will live long on my Flickr page and in my spiral-bound journal. And a big hello to 2016 and all the opportunities for obsessive documentation you are sure to bring.

#LitHappens: A bookish fairy tale come to life

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My boyfriend’s company hosts magical holiday parties: employees and their plus-ones dress like they’re going to the Oscars, the food and drinks roll out generously all night, and software guys and gals known for being reserved in the office break into funk moves on the dance floor with holiday abandon. Among the many parties we’re grateful to attend each December, this one is always poised to be a winner.

This year’s fete was no exception, and in fact was particularly memorable for one big, hunky reason: FABIO.

Fabio

Ripe for Refactoring with Fabio (I don’t know; it’s a computer joke)

The party’s theme this year was a literary one, so different rooms in the hotel that hosted it were decked out with the trappings of different genres, authors, and other book-related motifs. There was a Dr. Seuss room, a fantasy fiction room, the Library of Alexandria, etc, and a t-shirt screening corner where you could get a custom-printed frock with your choice of literary pun on it (eg: “#LitHappens”).

And, in one room, there were blown-up, illuminated romance novel covers and a mini photo studio where The Man himself stood ready to receive his fans. We could hardly believe it, but it was not a buttery imitation—it was the real-deal Fabio!

Of course we hopped on the (surprisingly long) line and hammed it up with Mr. Lanzoni (I went the zany route, natch, while Arthur piloted the straight man trope). I can sincerely say that the Italian Stallion was a total doll, patient and affable throughout what I have to imagine was, though a thrilling night for Fabio fanciers, a pretty repetitive and boring few hours for him.

So here’s to you, Fabio! Thanks for reaffirming my love of books, sunsets, and hugs this holiday season, all in the same photo op.

Why I might stop calling myself a freelancer

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As a wordie (hey, there are foodies, right? why not wordies?), I’m always interested in people’s different reactions to the same word, including my own.

For as long as I can remember, the word “freelancer” has had positive connotations for me. I associate it with independence, bohemia, diverse and interesting work. But when I read my friend and fellow wordie Suzan Bond‘s recent Fast Company article, I experienced something of a change of heart.

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Identity! (aka: a windowsill I saw in Prague this summer)

I won’t summarize her story, since Suzan did a marvelous (and concise) job of laying her premise out, but will say I’m starting to think about different ways to introduce myself that wouldn’t be as apt to connote “beginner,” “student,” or “hack” to other people.

I could say…

  • “I provide editorial services to nonprofits and small businesses.” This is exactly true, but rather clunky and perhaps a bit stuffy for a conversational entrée.
  • “I’m a writer/editor.” And then when they ask What do you write?, I say the above.
  • “I’m in business for myself.” “I have my own business.” “I’m self-employed.” Etc. Then the above.

I’m sure something will stick in time. And if “freelancing” has taught me nothing else, it’s that all is fluid! But right now, my curiosity’s piqued.

Fellow self-employed friends: How do you introduce yourselves?

“Knitting is Sitting for Creative People”

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I just Googled “knitting jokes” and that came up. Pretty good, ay?

I also know it to be true, because I spent most of the day last Sunday in Gowanus with the good people of Knitta as we attempted to cover two white Ford trucks and a grip of cardboard boxes in loops of yarn.

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Grace and me with much yarn

What I didn’t know going into this was… pretty much anything. My friend Grace only told me she was going to “help out with an art installation involving yarn” and that they needed extra hands. Sure!

At 9:00 am, when I arrived at the production warehouse that would be our staging area, people were already busy spreading out big yarny expanses to sort them by pattern.

Furled
Unfurled

As the unfurling continued, I began to suspect something…

Hashtag
Skyy mobile

Wait—this was going to be a vodka ad!

Well, so be it. Lesson number one.

The twenty or so of us crafty types got to work plastering the trucks and covering the boxes, which would later get stacked in the back like presents.

Cube!
Cubes in the back

The skilled knitters among us did the heavy lifting of actually knitting things together when that was called for; the others (like me) took turns whip stitching, hot gluing, and velcro-taping the fibers into place.

Our fearless leader, Magda Sayeg, a not-quiet woman in big eyeglasses, would be my lesson number two: she’s the mother of yarn bombing, people!! It was an awesome trip to hang out and get guidance from a real street art luminary all day. Also fun: although Magda looks like she’s about 20 years old, her two kids showed up at one point. They were very nice, and I think they’re in high school!

It was satisfying to watch our collective labor start to add up to something as the day wore on, and I was also stoked to see about one-third dudes making up the itinerant knitting crew. Yeah, fellas! We all chatted and snacked on really delicious Amy’s Cheddar Bunnies and listened to dreamy dance music as we worked. The time passed quickly.

Ergo, lesson number three: Doing crafty stuff is meditative and fun, even when you have to keep staring at a vodka hashtag.

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Knitta circle

Bonus points: on my bike ride home, the best Brooklyn sunset! Shots straight from the phone:

3rd Ave + 10th St
4th Ave + 10th St
5th Ave + 10th St

A sci-fi plebe gets initiated

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I should have known when I learned that a friend of mine named her blog after a Philip K. Dick novel that she was into science fiction (or should I say speculative fiction? help!), but I really didn’t think about it.

Only several years later (which was already several years after I’d met her) did the topic of sci-fi come up in earnest between us. We were in a rental car on our way to a wedding and she said, apropos of not much, “Have you ever edited a book?”

I said not exactly, but mentioned a few things that kinda-sorta came close. Why was she curious?

“Well, I wrote a sort of sci-fi novel maybe 10 or 15 years ago,” she said, “and it’s basically been sitting in a drawer since then. Recently, I’ve been feeling like I’m ready to do something with it, but I think it could use a second pair of eyes. I’m not sure exactly what an editor would do, besides be a genius and fix all my mistakes… But let me know if you want to talk about it.”

I was SUPER intrigued. For one, my friend wrote a secret book!! For two, it was a sci-fi book—especially weird!! For three, I love me the prospect of a crazy new project.

I’ve found that one of the best things about my first year-and-change of full-time freelancing has been the ability (or heck, sometimes the necessity) to take on a wide variety of editorial gigs. As I heard the author John Vaillant recently say, “I am a professional generalist.” Aside from the thrill of solidarity it gave me to hear a big-name writer identify himself that way—I’ve always been a mega-generalist and sometimes struggled with my lack of speciality, but he’s proof you can have an awesome career as a jack of many interests—his quip also perfectly described one of my favorite job perks: variety.

I told my friend that, although I: a) am not a fiction writer, b) am not even a huge fiction reader, and c) have never, to my recollection, read a sci-fi novel*, I was confident that I could at least do a decent job of copyediting her book, and that if I found I had any developmental suggestions for her in the course of doing so, I’d pass them on. She agreed to hire me, and off I went.

Dune

Dune! Power! Kyle MacLachlan!! (courtesy Flickr user KAZ Vorpal)

I’ve been combing through her formidable 480-page book since the middle of last month, with the goal of finishing by year’s end, and I’m having a blast with it, for many reasons. To name a few:

  • The change of pace is invigorating (see the jollies of the generalist, above). I love what I normally do, which is writing and editing external communications for nonprofits. It’s interesting, it has clear goals, and it’s for a good cause. But fiction! I can crank up the artfulness and shelf for a time the thoughts that the text I’m working on will need to be fact-checked, or instigate a call to action, or fit in a 500-word box. Our only goals here (though they are heady ones) are to tell an engaging story in the most appealing way we can. Hooray for that creative focus and freedom.
  • I’m getting to know my friend better through reading her impressive writing, which is lovely. And I’m probably enjoying reading the story more myself since I know who wrote it. Double win! Oh, and I’m gaining a better understanding of why people like sci-fi. Triple win!
  • As the weather cools, this is the perfect long-form project to curl up on the couch with: blanket over my knees, cup of coffee on the end table, laptop just where it was designed to be. Another nice change of pace: there’s nothing frenetic about this task.

So this post is part shout-out to my talented and industrious friend for believing I might be of some help to her labor of love, part written revelation about the wonderfulness of changing things up at work, and part teaser—’cause this book should be out on Kindle next year and I’ll be engaging in even more shameless self-promotion then!

*   *   *

Hey other freelancers: Do you like the way variety shapes your professional life? (Or maybe you hate it?) Penny for your thoughts in the comments.

*Unless you count a college boyfriend trying to read all of Frank Herbert’s Dune to me in installments. I tried hard to keep up with it, but usually fell asleep before he finished.