You know it’s been a long time when you think it is the 15th anniversary of a death and then realize, counting backwards, that it's actually the 14th, and your brain has done bad math again. It might as well be the 100th, it feels so long. Or the first, all over again, because there's... Continue Reading →
My dad introduced me to music. Starting when I was a tiny kid, my father, who grew up fantasizing about being the next Buddy Holly, would sit cross-legged with me on the gold shag carpet in the den, acoustic guitar in hand, and teach me the songs from his generation, the songs he loved, folk songs.... Continue Reading →
I guess I've reached middle age. (That's one of the most shocking sentences I've ever typed in my 44 years. I'm still wrapping my mind around it.) It means that the musicians of my youth — those vibrant men and women who blew my mind wide open and taught me to love the beat, the style,... Continue Reading →
All day I’ve been asking myself why I am so upset; why the death of someone I don’t know would actually make me cry upon hearing the news. I haven't been able to shake the feeling all day. It isn’t the first time losing someone famous made me sad—even this level of sad—nor will it... Continue Reading →
Recently, I attended a concert I normally wouldn't have. I received free tickets as a small part of my compensation for designing a brochure promoting the classical music series of which this event was a part, and the people who hired me were very kind and quite passionate. Plus, I am a life-long music lover, and... Continue Reading →
They say things come in threes. This time, three talented, funny, sweet guys I cared about—all in their early 40s, all musicians—are gone within three months. I manage a number of social media accounts for my job, so when I check Facebook, I’m genuinely not wasting time at work, usually. But as many know, company... Continue Reading →
On my 43rd birthday, I woke up and looked in the mirror at my year-older self. I had a new giant, bright red pimple, worthy of a pizza-devouring teenager, the kind even cover-up can’t truly mask. When I went downstairs to fix my lunch, the big, fat avocado I had hoped to eat, one that... Continue Reading →
Today, while reading my Shelf Awareness e-newsletter, a publishing industry mailer, I was reminded of a literary promotional concept that is wildly intriguing to me, and which I somehow didn't discover until very recently: the book trailer. I'm a marketing person by day, and I'm now in a position where I have to conceptualize and direct videos, which is a totally new... Continue Reading →
True Scrawl 