Friday, August 31, 2012

Friday QuoteDay

“We are made out of stardust. The iron in the hemoglobin molecules in the blood in your right hand came from a star that blew up 8 billion years ago. The iron in your left hand came from another star. We are the laws of chemistry and physics as they have played out here on Earth and we are now learning that planets are as common as stars. Most stars, as it turns out now, will have planets.”


Happy Blue Moon, darlings! 
 

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Badly Drawn Little Comics: Driving While Spring, Part II

Do y'all remember this little comic I made last year? Before my unannounced hiatus, I started a sequel! Even though it's no longer Spring (and practically no longer Summer!) it's time to share! 


Weekly Flâneur: Windows of Sky

(Image of skyscraper with blue sky. Click to enlarge.)
Look what's back this week!
All Hail the Queen City!

Hot time, summer in the city, Charlotte, N.C.
 

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

The Strangeness of Interviews

There's no solid day job in my life right now, but I make money freelancing for various publications. That means I'm a writer for hire, usually at 10 cents a word. The last jaunt was copywriting, but I prefer straight-up journalism over promo or ad writing any day.

Over the past few years I've interviewed dozens of people for articles and profiles -- in person, via email, on the phone. Every interview is a little bit different. I had an exciting one today, and tried to hide my excitement under a veneer of professionalism that came off a little stiff. I have never been on the other side as the interviewee and I am sometimes afraid it shows. (Job interviews are a different beast. There's a difference between, "Do I want to work with you, your personality, day-in and day-out?" and the "who, what, when, where, why and how" of a press interview.) Sure, sure, in Uni journo classes there were practice interviews at our desks, but that's not the same as sitting in the chair with a mic in your face, or being the person holding that mic. "Tell me everything about your life so I can write it down in my own words. Go!" Kinda horrifying, right?

Guarded interviewees will know when to state something is off-the-record or refuse to answer a question. That's cool. As long as you answer something. There have been a handful of interviews where it feels like I'm pulling teeth to get something beyond a yes or no answer. On the flip side, there have been a few interviews where I am suddenly and intensely bonded with the person I'm speaking to, social buddies meeting for booze and inside jokes, and oh, right, I have to write down what you're saying, sorry. Hang on, lemme turn on the tape player.

I use cassette tapes; a few years ago my MP3 voice recorder died during a phone interview with a local radio personality and I didn't realize it until the whole shebang was over. (Luckily, I had taken extensive notes.) Best to be an analog writer in a digital world. A button pops up to let me know when to flip the tape. Transcribing is a chore though; rewind the tape, stop, play, type, stop, rewind, repeat. 

There are people I never want to interview. I think I would actually refuse a chance to interview David Bowie. Never meet your heroes. They become human and fail you in the end.

Maybe one day, I'll become something beyond just the interviewer. And maybe someone will sit me down with a prepared list of questions and an eager, pleased look in their eyes and stick a microphone under my nose. It may not be as horrifying as it seems. Let's hope.

Friday, August 24, 2012

Badly Drawn Little Comics: Jolly Green Giant



(Click to enlarge both images)

How I spent my summer vacation: Doodles in pen. 

Nikki is adorable and cannot be captured by my poor drawing skills. (Sorry, Niks!) 

(Full text below the jump.) 

Friday QuoteDay

“There is no need for you to leave the house. Stay at your table and listen. Don’t even listen, just wait. Don’t even wait, be completely quiet and alone. The world will offer itself to you to be unmasked; it can’t do otherwise; in raptures it will writhe before you.”

— Franz Kafka, The Blue Octavo Notebooks
 


Thursday, August 23, 2012

We Didn't Break Up

I promise, we didn't.

I am walking up a steep lane to a small cottage nestled in thick bramble. The wooden cottage door is swollen shut, but I must get inside, for in this small hidden cottage there is a pale white-washed room holding a stoic oak table. On this table there is a blue ceramic bowl holding a bright red apple. Inside the apple is a seed, and carved almost imperceptibly on this small apple seed is one word, "write."

First, I must make my way up the lane, through the door, into the room. Sit at the table, study the curves of the blue bowl. Weigh the apple in bare, sweaty palms. Decide to take a bite. It's not an altogether unpleasant task, just takes time.

It's taken a solid two months, but I found the seed. Hello, dear Flâneur in the City readers. I missed you. What's new?