I'm going to interrupt my normal tone because I want to talk about  
the writer David Foster Wallace's suicide. For those of you who don't  
know who he is, I'll link to his NYTimes obit here.  As readers of  
this blog may or may not know, I love Foster Wallace's work. I became  
obsessed with it in grad school, wrote a paper studying his  
postmodern style, and blatantly tried to copy some of his stylized  
methods and techniques. I've read (almost) everything he's written,  
and have to admit that I prefer his nonfiction over his fiction  
probably because magazines and other things put restrictions on his  
seemingly unlimited and boundless talents as a writer, and I'm afraid  
some of those things were lost on me when he took off his rhetoric  
governor and just let er rip.

My earliest memory of reading Foster Wallace comes from college, from  
a friend recommending that I pick up his first collection of  
nonfiction, A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again. I read  
through the first couple essays unimpressed (or maybe just confused  
and college-style unwilling to admit said confusion) until I got to  
his profile of a mid-level tennis pro Michael Joyce and was  
completely and utterly blown away by his excruciating attention to  
detail, his knowledge of the game (being a former junior champion)  
and his humorous, confident, exuberant style.
"I want to be him," I remember thinking, probably knowing even then  
that I didn't have those sort of writing chops in me, but at the very  
least it made me want to try. And when I ending up reading the title  
essay about a cruise ship trip during my own cruise ship experience,  
I had the meta-feeling that he had actually jumped inside my head,  
taken everything I wanted to say out, and glossed it, gleaned it,  
times'd it by 20, and then made it much, much funnier and more final.  
So actually--from a personal confidence perspective-- that kind of  
sucked.

But really, that is just how he rolls. When he decides to write a  
piece, he writes THE definitive piece on whatever topic he chooses.  
On (2000 election maverick!) John McCain in "Up Simba", on talk radio  
in "Host" for the Atlantic, on the porn industry in another piece  
whose title fails me, he didn't simply take on topics, he destroyed  
them, sealing them off for any other writer. Which is why I think he  
influenced my style both in the ways that I copied him and in making  
me realize that there are some people that operate on a completely  
different level, and I should just try and appreciate the fact that  
these people exist and are willing to put their work in the public  
sphere. We are all worse off for not being able to experience more of  
him. I feel sadness for not just his family and friends, but for the  
entire American literary world. He truly will be missed.

Last week I did some TV stuff for the Boston news show Chronicle, in  
which I brought them around to some "insidery gems" in the city and  
talked about what made the places cool and what I saw as trends in  
Boston style for men. This is hilarious on several levels, the first  
being that I actually am considered some sort of expert on anything,  
but the shoot was fun, and I probably used the words "authentic" and  
vintage-esque at least eleven times per scene on camera. Also, for  
your own future benefit--should you find yourself unexpectedly on a  
news show-- do NOT eat a Sour Apple Blow Pop right before you're  
supposed to go on camera. Multi-colored tongues are not "in" right now.

Anyway, I am on a severe and utterly close deadline for Boston  
Magazine right now. The story is there waiting for me to nail it, but  
I keep being occupied by small tangential pieces of said story, and  
only seem to be able to work between the hours of 2-4 AM, which used  
to be fine, but now makes it impossible for me to do my day job  
without falling asleep in Espresso Royale and leaving myself  
vulnerable to pickpocketing by some of the less chill, more nefarious  
looking hippies.

It also is taking me awhile to get back into writing in the long form  
after spending the last three or four months exclusively writing and  
editing pieces that fall in the 200 word realm. Freedom of (word)  
expression is a mixed bag, friends. You always complain about wanting  
to "write the way you want" and "in your voice" and truly make  
something "completely original" but then, when you're finally given  
that chance, most likely you just sit there reading old issues of  
Esquire and praying that some sort of writerly osmosis will transfer  
their skills into your work while you watch Weeds.

With most of that said, I have a request. I want to know about dream  
jobs. The one writing job that you wish you could have. The more  
specific the better (don't just say you want to write for Tiger Beat,  
say you want to be the senior editor, etc, etc, etc) and how you  
imagine that someone would get that job. I'll reveal mine in the  
Commenting portion of the show and tell.

Luv to Luv,
to Luv Ya.

Timbaland and Magoo

Buying In: The Secret Dialogue Between What We Buy and Who We Are by Rob Walker

Normally my book recommendations fall heavily into the writing,  
words, fiction-esque category (Richard Price) or the magazine writer  
anthology category (David Samuels), which makes sense, because those  
are the things I do, friends. And you are what you read/eat. But I am  
adding another type of book to that list. And it's on--gasp-- murketing?

Rob Walker--the Consumed columnist for NYTimes magazine-- wrote a  
book that takes some of the major ideas of his articles and columns  
over the last few years and brings them together to help try and  
understand how consumer culture, trends, and marketing have changed  
over the last decade or so. And the book is kind of awesome. Now,  
this is more than just a passing interest of mine. I need to know  
about trends. I want to know about trends. I read RSS feeds about  
trends. I wear distressed jeans and tees made of ringspun cotton and  
write about wallets from Singapore (Property Of!) and bags made out  
of truck tarp and bike inner tubes by Swiss dudes (Freitag!). I'm  
kind of a tool. But even if you're not in this mix, the book does an  
incredible job of defining and naming what is going on with (the more  
clever) marketing and advertising schemes of nowadays and why--
despite our feelings that we are smart enough to no longer be tricked  
by companies-- we still get tricked by companies (into buying their  
bejeweled Ipod holders, etc).

The books rocks that Malcolm Gladwell Tipping Point story style--the  
"here is a random, yet interesting anecdote lede that'll hook you in,  
but won't let you figure out where I'm going, which'll further hook  
you in"-- and recounts stories of why the iPod sold even though it  
wasn't the first with the technology or even with the types of  
improvements that it made on that existing technology, why Timberland  
boots sell in the urban markets despite being marketed for scrappy  
dudes who work outside, how Pabst Blue Ribbon re-made themselves by  
accident, mostly thanks to bike messengers in Portland, Oregon, why  
Red Bull would spend $100 million dollars on non-advertised kite  
surfing trips to Cuba and Scion cars (by Toyota) would have parties  
where the guests of honor were from edgy artsy small, small mags like  
Art Prostitute, etc.

The main idea centers around this "murketing" term that Walker coined  
to mean murky marketing that's blurred the line so that we can't  
really tell we're being marketed to... and also drops a ridiculous  
chapter about word-of-mouth marketers... people hired to read a book  
on a subway and start small talk about it, or bring chicken sausage  
to a neighborhood BBQ and casually talk it up, and a bunch of other  
semi-creepy things that'll have you questioning your sister's next  
recommendation for Shake N Bake... is she actually being paid by the  
Shake N Bake company? Does Shake N Bake even exist anymore? Will it  
make a nostalgic resurgence, not unlike the shoe brand British Knights?

Regardless of the paranoia that may ensue post-reading, the book  
makes you think hard and long about what and why you consume what you  
do, and at least lets you feel kind of smart about it, even as you  
walk down the supermarket aisle in a trance, searching for the Shake  
N Bake for no good reason.

Oh yeah, and the Olympics are on... like all the time on MSNBC... and  
I can't stop (won't stop?) watching. Speaking of which, I need to  
go... China vs Poland, women's volleyball is on right now and it's  
the crucial third game.

If there are any comments, speak now or forever write your piece.

Black Hole,
Sun

Soundgarden

I've now spent a LOT of time away from the city of Brotherly Hub,  
which has made me reflective, which is the proper mindframe to either  
a) create a sappy (but totes cute!) collage of Saved By the Bell and  
Party of Five heartthrobs for your best high school girlfriend or b)  
think about some lessons that you've learned in your extensive and  
averagely-traveled writing career. And since I didn't have any hot  
pink posterboard on hand, I decided to opt for the latter (Sorry  
Kristin!). So here they are, in no particular order:

1. Write. The stupidest, most obvious one is actually the hardest  
to consistently follow. You can't get better without doing what  
you're doing, so keep doing it. More than you do now. 20% more.  
It's amazing what an extra half hour can add to your skill level. I  
wouldn't know, of course, but I've heard. From, like, other blogs.

2. Read. The only thing almost as good as writing. Reading is to  
being a writer as ingesting a ton of protein and eating Powerbars,  
and those little kind of nasty cans of tuna is to powerlifting. It  
gives you the base of knowledge to improve the writing. So read  
anything and everything you can. Absorb it. Ingest it. But not  
literally, that'd be gross.

3. A little bit of research goes a long way. You'd be surprised how  
many people blindly pitch things, hoping that the sheer quantity of  
mail they're sending will somehow cause something to stick. Take the  
time to read, skim, or at least Google whatever places you're  
interested in, narrow your list to a realistic portion and tailor  
everything to each individual magazine/lit journal/agent/pub house.  
Yeah it takes longer, but so does actually getting things accepted,  
and that's kind of the point right?

4. If you've established a relationship, check in. I can't emphasize  
how important it is to periodically check in with editors. Like parents,
they get busy and forget about you, so you sending them an email or giving them a  
call (only after you've established a relationship/written for them  
before, etc... only very lonely talkative people like cold calls)  
just to check in is a great way to get back on their radar. Do this  
once or twice a month and you will double your assignments not  
guaranteed! Unless, of course, they hate you and your work. Then this is probably
a bad idea.

5. Figure out who runs what. The published writing world is small  
circle filled with connections that resemble shorter versions of  
Seven Degrees of Kevin Bacon. If you're interested in getting into  
that world, figure out the genre you'd like to crack, and  
then go about getting closer to people in that arena through non-
stalkerish means. So if you're interested in writing mystery novels;  
see if anyone in your town/city/province actually does what you're  
interested in, and pitch the idea of profiling them for a newsletter  
or paper or something small. This gives you the chance to meet them,  
which could lead to figuring out who their agent is, other people  
they write with, publish with, etc, giving you a clear picture of their publishing
tree, how to climb it, and potentially setting you up to marry them and  
eventually ghostwrite their books.

6. Enjoy it. Because that's why you're doing it, right? It's not for  
the riches or the semi-exclusive parties at Hampton beach resorts, or  
the way that people double-take when you walk by them and then  
realize that you aren't the dude from Can't Hardly Wait... because  
none of that matters, or maybe even exists. So remember: you do this  
because you love it and because it's fun to make original semi-clever  
declarative phrases, not because of the wealth and the fame.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to be going: My butler just pulled  
the unicorn up to take me to a deep tissue massage.

In sign off news, Eddie Vedder continues his musical onslaught.  
Comment at your own peril.

Long,
Road

Pearl Jam

I hope your weekend was restful and untainted by several waits in line for iPhones that you didn't end up getting because you've just been paying your mom for all cell phone charges for the last five years rather than taking forty five seconds to go to the Verizon store and sign over the phone to your name. Because something like that would've sucked.

Today we are keeping things short, sweet and intensely focused as I have a workload this week that would make the average person stand up and say, "That seems like a pretty normal amount of work," but--for me, at least-- seems next to (mission?) impossible. See, friends, I am trying to do two-non-main-job things this week. The first is my official announcement to myself that I am starting another in my series of Boston Mag articles analyzing and commenting on the social values of people in the 27-37 age bracket. I will not say how this is going to go forward (it's a secret!) but I will say that involves me going pseudo-undercover, not unlike Johnny Depp in 21 Jumpstreet or Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed, except in my story, most of the people are not hanging out with David Arquette.

The second agenda item involves jumping back on the re-write train for my book. It has been awhile since I stared at the one or two chapters that  need to be pruned (deleted!) and, this weekend, I was watching VH1 Soul, which was playing a documentary about hip-hop that I've seen at least eleven times, and there was so much talk of creative interaction and artists and the creation of said art that I started to feel guilty that I was sitting watching it rather than taking part in the art party. Also, my dad asked me twice about it while I was using his swimming pool for (nearly flawless!) pencil dives and the consumption of that Gatorade with Tiger Woods on it. Guilt--such an amazing motivator!

Anyway, I have some topics to discuss or not discuss in the Section Formerly Known As Comments. What sort of things/events/motivational speakers get you back on the writing train when you've fallen off? Reading good writing? Hearing about other people's success? Watching hip hop documentaries while eating Peach Cobbler Ice Cream?

I await your motivations with a curiosity that knows several bounds and Billy Corgan.

19,
79

Smashing Pumpkins

Hello friends. I hope everyone celebrated the birth of our nation in  
a timely, safe, and socio-economically green manner. I sat in 40 min  
of post-fireworks traffic driving back from Wood's Hole (Cape Cod!)  
to Falmouth (Cape Cod!) on Friday night, which would've almost  
completely sucked if not for the intrepid lyrical hegemony of Hall  
and Oates, Steve Winwood, and Michael Jackson's "Dirty Diana" Also,  
we had Cheez-its.

Anyway, as promised via the Comments section (before a large chunk of  
that section disappeared into the darkness of the Interweb), I'm  
relaying the fact that I'm gainfully employed. Here is a short, not-
entirely syntax clean version of that story: during the madness of  
the thesis get a call from founder of a website saying I was  
recommended to him through a friend of a friend for an editorial  
position, he relays the details, they sound promising, I check it  
out, and then--in the midst of the thesis insanity-- I apply for said  
job. Interviews, resumes, and reference calls happen, writing tests  
happen, background checks check out, and miraculously, as soon as I  
have left the world of higher education, I actually have a job.  
Needless to say, my dad thought/thinks I'm lying.

"A website?"
"Yeah."
"That will pay you?"
"Yeah. Pay is the new free, Dad."
"I'm hanging up."

So, I am the Boston Editor of Thrillist.com, which launched here two  
weeks ago. Thrillist is a free (city-specific) lifestyle guide and  
daily newsletter, which finds cool "under-the-radar-assuming-the-
radar-is-other-Boston-based-publications" bars, restaurants, clothes,  
sneakers, inflatable rafts you can play drinking games on, websites,  
candy, animals, gadgets, magic, etc. If you know what Daily Candy is,  
it's a lot like that, except slanted more towards dudes. Its got  
around 320,000 subscribers nationwide with city-specific editions in  
NYC, LA, SF, Chi-town, Vegas, and now Boston.  My job is to find all  
of that stuff I mentioned, write the editorial content, take the  
pictures, hire freelancers, and yell quixotically at the interns I  
haven't hired yet. If that still doesn't answer your question, here  
is a Boston Globe article about the launch of the site, which  
includes several terrible quotes I gave to the reporter while  
extremely sick and extremely sleeping.

Part of my job involves walking all the different neighborhoods of  
Boston to see what has changed and what might be new, reading all of  
the free weeklies including the ones I severely dislike to make sure  
I haven't missed something, keeping up relationships with PR people  
that rep retail/bars/restaurants, owners of boutiques, buyers for  
stores, etc, to encourage them to dial me in whenever they get new  
stuff, and to spend an inordinate amount of time using my Google  
Reader to read trend blogs that discuss hep new sneakers. This--as  
you can imagine-- is cool, yet time-consuming stuff. As part of my  
agreement with the site, I'm allowed to keep my freelance gigs, which  
is nice of them, but it does  make it harder and harder for me to  
find the time to fit everything into my schedule. The woe is upon me.

Anyway, the good news is I now have a grown-up's salary and health  
benefits (?!), which allows me to pick and choose only the freelance  
stories I want to work on, which is amazing. Plus I'm writing and  
editing for a living AND I have business cards. The bad news is I now  
have about 45 less hours a week in which to pursue those stories, or  
re-writes to my book or short story about dating reality stars in  
Zurich, Switzerland. But, friends, if I truly want to get these  
things done, they will get done(ish). So it just means I have to work  
harder, better, faster, stronger.

Ok. There's that story. Now you know what I'm doing betwixt the hours  
of 9-6 when I'm not taking tv timeouts to peruse the philosophical  
gems embedded in the View. The Comment section is open to the public.  
Emoticon away;)

One More,
Time

Daft Punk

While perusing the Interweb, I realized that a lot of successful  
webhomes use surveys to conduct user feedback to finely tune their  
content and figure out how many old "Threes Company" clips to post.  
And since we--like the Web-- are an ever-changing, ever-adapting  
server of you, our reader, we want to get in on the quiz taking  
action. So--for customer service benefits-- I've composed a 5  
question quiz to gauge interest, air concerns, and continue talking.  
If you would be kind enough to take the quiz, I will be kind of  
enough to provide it. And that, friends, is how we kill the customer  
service industry (with kindness!).

Directions: Read, pick, read, pick, read, pick, read...pick, read,  
pick, write.

1. I come on the site to:
A) Talk about writing.
B) Learn what Kevin is up to.
C) See if I can acquire Kevin's email address so I can solicit him to  
purchase very cheap tech stocks that are just going to go up, up, up!
D) Watch old music videos.
E) I accidentally came to this site and accidentally read this quiz.

2. Entries I find most useful are:
A) The ones in which Kevin starts talking about something relatively  
important, gets wildly off topic, regains his footing in the last  
paragraph and then quickly signs off with a semi-forgotten vid pic  
from a year that makes him nostalgic.
B) Are there any other kinds of entries?
C) Seriously. See B. There shouldn't be any more choices.
D) "Useful" is a complicated word, especially in this context.
E) Please. Can I just get this over with?

3. Something I wish Kevin would do more was:
A) Write about fiction/books/short stories (writing it, reading it,  
dreaming about it, improving it, etc).
B) Write about non-fiction/magazine work (see parenthesis above and  
embrace its content).
C) Compose poorly worded (yet hilarious!) poems.
D) Respond to comments.
E) Work on his glutes and abdominals.

4. Something I wish Kevin would do less was:
A) Get off topic.
B) Stay on topic.
C) Talk about television/pop culture.
D) Complain.
E) Make us take quizzes.
F) Watch Zach Braff films.

5. Do you want more music from the:
A) Late 80s
B) Early 90s
C) Mid to Late 90s
D) Just Play That Funky Music, White(ish) Boy
E) I have regrets involving taking this quiz.

And that's it. We don't have anonymity's interests at hand, so feel  
free to leave your name, answers and anything else in the comment  
depository. I will not judge.  Other people will not judge. We will  
remain judge free.
Enjoy your pre-Birth of the Nation shortish week and remember: Below  
SPF 15 doesn't really even count as sunscreen.
Now check out Coolio's amazingly Zach Morris iPhone. He's got  
something brand new for your (rear end).

1, 2,
3, 4 (Sumpin New)

Coolio

Generally speaking, this blog is about the writing world, and the writing world is a large entity not just made up of books, magazines, and creepily specific dream journals. Within the confines of said blog, I try and talk about anything in that whole new world associated, connected to or living with good writing and sometimes those things involve television. To be fair, I don't actually watch much TV. I watch most shows on DVR, and yes, occasionally dabble in the live action of The View...and my roommate and I tend to leave the MTV JAMS continuous stream of music videos involving  Beyonce on when we've been overserved, but all in all, TV isn't one of my huge vices. But when I find something on the television to be passionate about (The Wire!), I feel the need to express my gratitude. And, friends, gratitude needs to be expressed via a show called Mad Men. Now the reason I'm writing this currently--the time hook, if you will--is because NY Times Mag just ran a cover story about the show, before the start of the second season, and I've realized that I need to get on the record about it before saying that you like Mad Men becomes synonymous with saying you like candy, rainbows or babies--in other words, just something that everyone takes for granted.

I came across this show when the Soprano's was ending and I knew that one of their writers-- a genius named Matt Weiner-- had got his gig with Soprano's essentially by showing David Chase the pilot he wrote for Mad Men, a show that HBO eventually passed on. The show is about the NYC ad world in 1960-- a place filled with white dudes drinking martini's and whiskey at lunch and making vaguely to explicitly offensive remarks about anyone who is not in their highly self-prized social bubble. The beauty of the show is the slice of history you absorb watching it--you feel like you're watching a documentary from a time that feels just as dated as when Paul Giamatti is dressed in a wig on John Adams--and that definitely makes it cool, but the best part of it--as always-- is writing characters that feel so, so real. There is a slimy Sales Rep from an old NY scion of power fam always trying to make moves, a 50s style beauty-queen wife who realizes she's married a man strictly for his paper resume and doesn't have any idea what she actually wants and a main character--Don Draper-- so elaborately complicated as to be possibly be the human version of a Rubrik's Cube. I watched the first season with a thirsty abandon I haven't felt since, ahem, The Wire, and I encourage you to. But like anything I write about here, I think ultimately watching this show helps me become a better, more visual, more complex writer. And here are two excerpts from the NYTimes mag article, the first with Weiner discussing his process of writing and the second a cute section about the importance of his wife's opinion when writing:

“I have a very good memory for dialogue and for conversation,” he said, “and if you tell me a personal detail about yourself I will never forget it and probably steal it. So a lot of me working out the story is me telling the story. My favorite people to tell the story to are my wife and Scott Hornbacher.” He is Weiner’s co-executive producer and creative partner. “If I can see their reaction, I can see what works and what doesn’t,” Weiner said. “That was not something I did on ‘The Sopranos,’ because it was so secretive, and I couldn’t bring in a stranger and dictate to them. But when I wrote the ‘Mad Men’ pilot seven years ago, I dictated it to Robin Veith, who is now a writer here. I wanted someone to be there so I would have to show up. I can write a huge amount that way if I have a good outline. Then I rewrite. That’s when I sit at the computer.”

Weiner married Linda Brettler, an architect, after he graduated from U.S.C. They have four sons. She supported him when he was broke, and she is now his most-important sounding board. “Every single script goes through my wife,” he said. “She inevitably says, ‘What is it about?’ We talk about it and I’m always angry when she’s talking.” He didn’t look angry, he looked glad, as he always does when he talks about his wife. “She’s chewing gum and taking her time,” he continued. “She went to Harvard, she’s really smart and I just stand there literally with my hands out like — ‘What?’ I argue with her, and I always swear I’m not going to show it to her again because I’m so defensive. I mean, my writers come up with lots of good ideas, but she is really something."

Anyway, I guess my point is this: watch the first season, embrace and absorb the characters, their arcs, fears, and most importantly the way they talk, etc, read the article-- especially the quote about Weiner not believing in bad guys--“Everybody has a reason for doing what they’re doing," and then move on to the second portion of the play, which involves relaying your favorite bits of dialogue from books, mag stories, tv shows, anywhere you feel necessitates a shout-out. I want me some good dialogue. Dialogue--after all-- is hep stuff.

Please leave these items in the Comment deposit box. A gift receipt can be made available upon request. Now sit back as Jewel decides who is going to help you out with your soul issues.

Who Will,
Save Your Soul

Jewel

I just read an article in the NYTimes titled "Small Publishers Feel  
Power of Amazon's 'Buy' Button," in which they talk about how Amazon--
in an effort to try and get an increasingly more favorable cut of the  
profits from publishers-- will take away the "Buy now with 1 click"  
button on many of the titles that that publisher puts online (which  
includes free shipping) unless they bend to their demands, forcing  
people to go through to the Amazon marketplace (and pay for shipping)  
to purchase the book.

The first thing I thought when I read the article was "wow, we're  
getting upset because we actually have to click the mouse at least  
three more times to purchase a book" and then I thought "well, three  
times is kind of a lot," and then I thought "especially when you cut  
your pointer finger moving an air conditioning unit." But after  
reading it over again (I'm thorough!), I realized the main point:  
Amazon is not being cool.

On one hand--and this hand is small, fragile, and needs its nails  
trimmed-- I understand Amazon's move. They are a business, and  
businesses make money, and money is what you need to buy Playstation  
3's, even if you're only using them for the Blu-Ray disc drive. Of  
course a business is going to try and gain a more favorable financial  
foothold, especially if their place in the market has increased.  
That's just Econ 101, a class I never took.

But Amazon touts itself as "Earth's most customer-centric company"  
and customers shouldn't be forced to get punished financially for  
liking titles that just happen to be published by companies who are  
not assenting to Amazon's demands. More importantly, I use the "buy  
now with 1 click" button all the time to make impulsive purchases,  
and then rationalize the purchase by telling myself that it's too  
late to take it back because it's already been shipped (free!), and I  
don't want to feel like I'm supporting someone who is being a jerk to  
people in our literary fraternity/sorority/society. So I'm (kind of)  
conflicted.

This remains just another example of the (business) man keeping me down.

But, friends, yours and my time would be wasted if I didn't have a  
solution for said situation. And I don't, which I feel bad about, but  
I think you can help. You're all smart, savvy, aesthetically pleasing  
people of various Interweb knowledge, so I figure you can provide me  
(and you) with the names of all other online book retailers that you  
use and think offer sweet deals or at least fair purchasing rights  
with moderately few clicks. You can provide these names in a section  
of the blog I have named "Comments" and then we will use that  
knowledge to better our lives. This is what economists call "very  
chill."

So let's do unto others as they'd do unto us in the Comment section  
and let the Tony Rich Project carry us home with another sweet sweet  
ditty from the year of Bob Dole. After all, he's missing you and nobody
knows it but him.

Nobody,
Knows

The Tony Rich Project

First of all, I mine-as-well get this out of the way: I saw the Sex  
and the City movie and it wasn't not good. I know, I know-- I want  
very badly to say that I was forced into it, that I had no choice but  
to see it bc (Insert Pseudo Interesting Art Film here) was sold out,  
but, friends, that isn't how it went down. I kind of like Sex and the  
City. And the movie was an emotional rollercoaster (with nudity!).  
With all the women decked out in cocktail dresses, I kind of  
felt like I was witnessing a female version of the dress-up  
fascination of Lord of the Rings, but with sluttier outfits on the  
hobbits. If I was a movie analyst--and I should be--I would say that  
movie is going to make at least 3 billion dollars (Canadian).

Anyway, I'm back in the designated driver's seat of my book, whipping  
off the final version before I send it out. And when I say whipping  
off, I obviously mean occasionally writing small edits at night,  
after re-watching portions of The Real World Hollywood. But I realize  
that I need to get the book out, and I need to do it this week,  
because of a crucial event immersing this weekend social calendar: My  
fifth year college reunion.

Fifth year reunions are the 18 plus clubs of the reunion world:  
everyone is too young, looks the same, and probably got drunk  
beforehand. But they do offer a crucial look at the success rate of  
your peers. And--aside from making sure that no one else's distressed  
status jeans are more expensively nonchalant than mine-- I have just  
one question that I need to answer: Is anyone else a more successful  
writer?

In college, I was a political science major, so I wasn't dialed in to  
who was in the creative writing workshops. And, although I wrote a  
column for the paper my senior year, I didn't actually ever go into  
the Trinity Tripod newspaper office. So I don't even know who to  
ultimately try and look down upon when comparing myself.

My plan is this: buy a pair of non-prescription eye glasses (to take  
off and absentmindedly gnaw on when I am trying to make a point) and  
immediately delve into the "so what are you up to nowadays" game.  
Hopefully, after I drop my several-time thought out, faux-self  
deprecating response ("Oh me? Hmmm, not much, just writing for some  
(national!) magazines, getting a book that probably won't sell out to  
my agent, you know... typical boring writer stuff,")  then I will  
delicately prod people to reveal if anyone else works in the  
"industry." People do this naturally: "Oh really? You should talk to  
Ramsey--he's also writing," etc, etc. And then I will find that  
person, provoke a convo and hope to the Lord that my writing stuff is  
cooler than their writing stuff. Then I will play beer pong, eat  
Lucky Charms and sleep in a dorm room.

I know I shouldn't care. I know I should take this as an opportunity  
to network with the other potential writers in my beloved class. I  
know I should be happy if anyone "made it" in such a hard business,  
especially because that speaks well of my school and opens the door  
for the younger generation of writers coming in after us. And when I  
think of it rationally, I do feel that way. But I am also  
competitive. And insecure. And really, really tired. And the dirty  
truth of the matter is that I want to be the only one. I want  
everyone else to be impressed by the fact that I actually am doing  
what I said I was going to do when I left school. I want street cred.

I am not normally like this, friends. I love hearing stories about  
other people's success. You know that. But there is something about  
the pool of people you went to college with--especially at a small  
school like mine-- that brings out the lion, tiger and bear in me (Oh  
my).

So hear you me, Trinity College (CT) Class of '03: Do you have a book  
published? Are you writing for Esquire or the New Yorker or, even,  
Redbook? Have you ever called the Internet a "fad" on a radio show?  
Do you have to wear pants on a daily basis? Do you like that?

If so, and you see me at the reunion, do me a favor: Please don't  
tell me.

Reunion stories, writing trivia, and jpegs from Sex and the City will  
be provided in the Comments section. Refreshments will be served.

Till I Hear it,
 From You

Gin Blossoms

I will be interviewed on Helen Coronato's Novel Idea radio show from 10-11 AM Thurs morning. Possible topics include books, supremely clever puns my illustrious career and the awe-inspiring fragility of my ego.
You can tune in and find out whether or not I accidentally curse via The InterWeb here:
http://www.homegrownradionj.com/DJs/shows/novel_idea.htm

And you can watch a brand old music vid from the Chinese New Year of the Rat (96!) here:
No Diggity,
No Doubt

Blackstreet

That should hold you at least through midday.