I still struggle when I tell people what I write about. What do I write about? Everything. How can I be more focused with my voice? I have had to really consider my motivations in writing.
When you love an idea of someone, you don’t love their reality. You love the thing you build them up in your head to be.
Your twenties are marked by significant transition. The first part of the decade is often spent stumbling around in a liquor infused haze, living paycheck to paycheck, heartbreak to heartbreak, and moving from one fast fashion craze to the next.
Everyone old enough remembers where they were. They have discussed it and relived it time and again. The topic has come up on dates where, painfully aware that the way I experienced the event reveals my age, I have shyly declined to comment.
In the summer of 2008 I sought professional treatment for chronic migraines. I had suffered from them since I was a child, and as anyone who has ever experienced them can tell you, they are absolute agony.
“There’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”
Romantic Comedies feature hyperbolic parodies of the reality of dating, filled with limited and narrow characters that are often the most outrageously stereotyped of people. What is refreshing about Trainwreck is that it removes many of the traditional rom-com blinders, and allows for the hilarity of a believable situation to amuse its audience (and in some cases, make us uncomfortable with how close to home it hits).
Like many of you, I had a lot of romantic notions about my career; and like a lot of things about romance, the granting of a Masters degree did not suddenly grant these wishes. I enrolled in grad school as a way to make myself more ‘employable’ while also pursuing a field I found deeply fascinating.