As the black crow flies, so too does the luck of anyone brazen enough to steal from the Painted Desert for the sake of a vainglorious because I can. Such a creature of inordinate vanity cannot, by the laws of moonlight and the writs of sunshine, remain unpunished for very long.
[This post was originally published a few months ago but I wanted to resurrect it because (if you couldn’t tell) I’ve been in a bit of a writing slump and thought it best to revisit my bad habits in order to create some good ones.] There’s a troubling dichotomy that
A few weeks ago, I received word I was selected to be a member of the 2018 Forbes Communications Council. It was a huge honor and a bit of a dream-come-true moment for me, so I figured I should probably repost my first Forbes.com article right here for all of
My friend, sob, and I recently reconnected over Instagram (hey, find me @melissakandel!) and it made me want to repost this interview I did with him several months ago. I publish this not only to celebrate our Insta-friendship but also in commemoration of his most recent milestone, hitting 20k followers! Enjoy!
If Isabel Allende was applying for the job of world’s most popular Spanish-language author, she’d totally crush it. Because let’s be real … she probably is. The Chilean-American writer, best known for penning The House of Spirits (La Casa de los Espíritus) and City of the Beasts (La Ciudad de las Bestias), among countless other
Currently making my way through Catalina Island, navigating the unexpected crowds, eating too-salty halibut, experiencing vistas of aquamarine waters broken by small pebbles along the shore. The beaches, as I’ve seen them, are small slivers of sand, hardly wide enough for lounging but people here seem to do it anyway,
The taxi door fluttered open, a bright flap of yellow against the sluggish August wind. One last look to the driver with graying teeth and gangly, corn-husk hair and Simon Plinkers peeled himself out of the car. (This after sitting for twenty seven minutes in downtown traffic as the taxi meter skipped
There’s a spot in my living room that undeniably catches the best morning light. A leather armchair is catty-cornered into it, and if you sit there by the window, you only see my neighbor’s big, leafy tree and not much else, which makes you feel like you’ve temporarily fallen into some tropical oasis of leather chairs
Just because you’re a needle in a haystack or a pea beneath a thick mattress doesn’t mean that needle-you won’t be found or pea-you can’t be felt. Here’s the proof: A few days ago I received a surprising email from Michelle, the self-proclaimed Chief Semicolon Advocate at WordPress; I use