books

The incoherent rambling of a wannabe writer

Magazines have always been a favorite outlet of mine. Their glossy pages and giant letters called to me and encouraged me to pay the $5 for the random issue that stood out in front of me on the newsstand that day. That’s how I knew I wanted to write. I wanted to be one of the people whose names were printed in small black letters under a grand article title. I just didn’t know how to get there. So I interned. I spent every summer from the age of 16 to the age of 19 working in the editorial office of KIWI Magazine where I did everything from fetch office supplies to research holiday gift guides in June. It was not what I imagined. So I went to college.

In college I studied communication, focusing on journalism. I pretended I knew what I was doing when writing essays at 4am or when researching for an article about “BENNYs” for the school’s newspaper. But I could never say my heart was fully in it. I never felt complete after turning in a mock article. But I remember loving the research. I loved being given a topic and thinking of only that topic for 3 days straight; spending hours in the library researching and printing, I practically had my own computer there. But this was school. Life would surely be different. It was this thinking that lead to a new internship. My cousin’s girlfriend was working in the advertising department for a beautiful food magazine. She sold advertising space to mom and pop shops on the East Coast. She told me her friend in the marketing department was looking for an intern to help out for the summer. I decided to give it a go.

That summer was one of the best I’d ever had. I was almost an adult, I worked in an amazing office, I made a few friends, but was only allowed into the editorial office when dropping something off. Apparently there is a hard line between the business side and the creative side of a magazine. And that summer I was on the wrong side. So instead, I took home back copies and studied the glossy pages. I worked on their summer events and followed the magazine’s publisher around as if she were a god. I don’t think she ever actually took notice of me, though. Didn’t matter, I was where I needed to be at that time.

Next summer I graduated college. I was given the opportunity to intern there again, but turned it down in favor of a paying job… One I did not have yet.

July 2013 I was offered an advertising coordinator position at one of the biggest newspaper publishing companies in the country, so I took it. It really is all about who you know. I assumed I would work at the newspaper during the day and write at night. And that is how this blog was born. My first post was sent from my parents house in Naples, Florida the day before I flew back to New York to start my first real job.

But as days passed into weeks, and weeks into months my writing became almost nonexistent. By the following February I had sunken into a full blown depression. I wasn’t mentally prepared to work in a windowless office in a position that required absolutely no creativity. I was miserable and couldn’t even hide it anymore. By March I had booked a trip to Europe. My favorite place in the entire world was Rome, I thought it was about time I had gone back. After extensive googling and convincing, I bought a slightly sketchy groupon for a 6 day trip that would bring me to Paris for three days and Rome for another three. That November, with my boyfriend of a year in tow (much to my parents’ chagrin,) I touched down in Paris and squished the two of us into a train with the morning rush hour traffic.

The next three days we met Paris.

I visited museums and ate croissants. I was dumb and hadn’t researched enough, but it was fine. I was in Paris after all! We walked around the city eating crepes and ogling  fancy stores. On the fourth morning we woke up early and left our Moroccan themed hotel for the last time. We shuffled our way into Charles de Gaulle airport with sleep in our eyes and pillows in our hand. While walking to our gate, I passed the French version of the Winter issue of my old magazine, and it definitely caught my eye. Snowflakes covered the magazine name and every headline was in French, bien sûr. I needed it.

I have only ever bought magazines on the stand. I enjoy having the ability to buy whenever I please. I don’t feel rushed to read it and can take a month or a year if I so choose. But today something was different.

This afternoon, while reading the beginning of The Art of Editing No. 3 I was given the option to continue reading if, and only if, I subscribed to the Paris Review. I had always enjoyed the Paris Review but hadn’t been a loyal reader. But I was entranced by the article. The interviewee had my total and complete attention and I wanted to be her. I wanted to know everything there was to know about her life and her work, her career and her current whereabouts, so I subscribed.  I was given the option to subscribe for one year of four issues, or two years of eight. Each option gave me a “free gift” of interviews from over the years and neither was cheap. I have spent the last two years deciding whether I want to spend the $6 to subscribe to Conde Nast’s Traveler even though I check their site weekly, but this morning, I deep dove into a $95, two year subscription of a literary magazine that I rarely read.

Is this what a stroke feels like?

Yes ok, that was dramatic of me to say. But I feel different. As I get older, more of me is looking to become the elegant literary buff I wanted to be as a kid and less of me is looking to write. My book collection has grown 10 fold just from last January, and I haven’t even read half of them yet. I think it’s funny that now I dress in mostly black, with dark sunglasses and avoid eye contact with strangers so that I seem more mysterious. None of this is intentional now. Now it is just me, the way I react to being here, in a job that requires no creativity. I guess I’ve accidentally decided to let myself sink into invisibility so that when I do let out my creative ideas people are surprised, instead of expecting them the way they used to.

Reading and writing have always been my hobbies, they were my wheelhouse, so to speak. They were where I was most comfortable. But now I tend to gravitate to words that are already written; concrete ideas that don’t need me to develop them. I shy away from writing and it makes me sad. But writing isn’t something you’re just good at all of a sudden. You need to practice. I just wish I had more motivation to.

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This week has been really annoying

So I’ve decided to look into books I want. Here is a list of books i will eventually buy myself.

  1. Women in Greek Myth by Mary R. Lefkowitz
  2. The Sweet life in Paris: Delicious Adventures in the World’s Most Glorious – and Perplexing – City by David Lebovitz
  3. Parisian Chic: A Style Guide by Ines de la Fressange by Ines de la Fressange & Sophia Gachet
  4. Man Repeller: Seeking Love. Finding Overalls by Leandra Medine
  5. Gospel According to Coco Chanel: Life Lessons from the World’s Most Elegant Woman by Karen Karbo
  6. The Artemisia Files: Artemisia Gentileschi for Feminists and Other Thinking People by Mieke Bal
  7. Legends of the Middle Ages: The Life and Legacy of Vlad the Impaler by Charles River Editors
  8. The Passion of Artemisia: A Novel by Susan Vreeland
  9. Vlad the Impaler: The Real Count Dracula (Wicked History) by Enid A. Goldberg
  10. Dracula, Prince of Many Faces: His Life and His Times by Radu R Florescu and Raymond T McNally
  11. The Winter Witch by Paula Brackston
  12. High Witch (Book 1) by Mona Hanna
  13. Green Witchcraft: Folk Magic, Fairy Lore & Herb Craft (Series but I’ll start with Book 1) by AAnn Moura
  14. Witchcraft: Theory and Practice by Ly de Angeles
  15. Vampires: The Myth, Legends and Lore by Aubrey Sherman
  16. The Line (Witching Savannah Book 1) by J.D. Horn
  17. The Romanov Sisters: The Lost Lives of the Daughters of Nicholas and Alexandra by Helen Rappaport
  18. Dark Witch (The Cousins O’Dwyer Trilogy, Book 1) by Nora Robers
  19. Dreams of Gods & Monsters (Daughter of Smoke and Bone) by Laini Taylor
  20. Pandora’s Daughters: the Role and Status of Women in Greek and Roman Antiquity (Ancient Society and History) by Eva Cantarella and Maureen B. Fant

These are just some of the newer books I’ve seen listed in no particular order that have peaked my weird reading interests… here’s to payday!

Cheers!

Day 1 of my Birthday Week

Today is my little sister’s birthday, but also Day 1 of my birthday week. Birthday week is always filled with cake and cookies and ice cream and love, so it’s always the best week of the year.

Day One went a little something like this:

I shopped online at work, bought my sister an edible arrangement because they’re delicious, bought 2 tickets to the chocolate expo this Sunday at the Meadowlands Expo Center, bought other things, made Chase nervous, spoke on the phone with the Chase people to verify that all the purchases I’d made in the last 24 hours were indeed mine, finally bought 2 rad shirts I had been trying to buy for hours but Chase wouldn’t let me, bought lipstick from Macy’s, and discussed marriage with the girl I work with.

Then I went to dinner with Nick. We went to his favorite Chinese place, then to Barnes and Noble, where he let me pick out whatever I wanted (which lead up a frantic, hour-long search for anything I thought I might like, this was terrifying,) then we went to stop and shop, picked up a pumpkin pie, went back to his house and ate a quarter of it.

When I got home my mom and I are the other quarter of it. That was great.

Overall, day one has been swell. While it is late and day two is a Tuesday, (I hate Tuesdays. Nothing good ever happens on a Tuesday,) I have high hopes for my birthday week.

Wish me luck!

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I couldn’t decide so my present was both. The one time my indecisive nature worked in my favor

My future home

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Source

Once I get my own place, this is what my living room walls will look like. (…and the bed room walls, and the kitchen walls. pretty much any wall I can do this to, its going down)

I’ll have a big, brown, worn out leather chair for me to read in and a suede couch of a similar color. I’ll get multiple side tables for around the room with dozens of candles and lamps so I can adjust the brightness depending on my mood.

I’ll have cute little coasters for my mugs and warn blankets everywhere, just in case. I want fluffy pillows to lean on and plants and flowers all around the room. I’ll get a surround sound type system and connect it to a record player, so that I can play pretty music while I read; I want a desk in the corner, an antique wood one (with matching chair) to put my type writer on, and a gorgeous leather bound notebook to write stuff in that will stay at the desk, a feather quill to write with, and a giant carpet for the middle of the room.

This is what I want my future to look like. That’s important.

Make way for the Princess

WGP

I love reading. I’ve always love reading, (the first word I ever read was Pizza, according to my mom. That’s completely irrelevant. I just think it’s funny and like sharing it.)

I read as much as I possibly can. I always have a book with me. I buy purses based on the amount of books I can stick in it. I’m weird, I get it.

But the thing that always freaks me out is that, while reading a book, any book, I begin to think, speak and write the way the author writes (I do this with accents too actually.. I’m very weird. I know.)

Right now I’m waiting for two awesome books to come out. One is the third and final installment of the All Souls Trilogy by Deborah Harkness, The Book of Life, which comes out July 15th (I’ve already hit up the book store in Grand Central station, which is a block from where I work, and asked them to put one on hold for me… they thought I was crazy because I asked them in February. But I’ve been waiting tooooo long for this man, too long;) and the other is Psychos, the second book by Babe Walker which comes out April 29th, (I read the first book, White Girl Problems, last year, andthought it was fictional, but after stalking her on every social medium she partakes in, I’m starting to think it was cold, hard fact.)

I’m extremely excited about both, obviously… they’ve given me something to look forward to while sitting in my dismal cubicle staring out a window (that’s across the hall and no where near me) to see the beautiful day that I cannot enjoy due to the fact that I apparently get paid to “work and not tan.” Whatever. I actually enjoy my job… I just enjoy the sun more. whoops

Anyway, after reading the first two chapters of Psychos, which she “leaked” on her website (is it technically still a leak if she did it?) I realized how good this second book will be. And since reading the chapters I’ve begun checking her blog regularly. as I wrote this, she favorited my tweet to/about her and I’m freaking out… ok hi.

But the reason I began writing this post was to talk about the fact that I have begun to think they way she writes… and I love it. I feel like the Babe Walker of BabeWalker.com, the one I’ve read so much about, is a total badass in her own way, and I definitely want to be considered a badass. And I will most likely read her first book a few times in the next 3 weeks in order to prepare myself for the glamor and sophistication that will be Psychos; (just so you know, I wanted to spell it ‘glamour’ but Firefox said it was incorrectly spelt and I couldn’t handle the stupid little red squiggle under it.)

So to conclude this mess of a post, I now know that, for the next 19 days, I will be acting like the princess that I am, while speaking as if I were Babe Walker, in order to fully prepare myself to appreciate Psychos and everyone else is just going to have to get over it.wgp2