Brief Scenes From Our Marriage
First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the Opposite of Feng Shui. A marriage, told in four parts.
First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the Opposite of Feng Shui. A marriage, told in four parts.
Fashions come and go, but names tend to stick around forever, even hippie ones.
Music connects to memories, and so do album sleeves. From ELO’s spaceship to Róisín Murphy’s see-through top, the covers that made one writer a fan.
Anyone who says video games shouldn't appeal to adults, let alone women, has never flirted with General Carth Onassi. Exploring a virtual courtship.
Writer seeks pen name: something simple, nothing dippy, and preferably one that avoids implying a lawyer who savors puns.
To entertain themselves and their friends, two brothers formed a band, Birdhead. Now one traces the history of “the critically acclaimed power duo from Rancho Cucamonga.”
A television news report begets a routine doctor’s appointment begets a personal health scare.
Writers aren’t born, they’re made—from practice, reading, and a lot of caffeine. And sometimes tutelage.
Moving back to your hometown offers opportunities to rekindle old friendships—and start new ones. An 80-proof love story.
Eight years later, we continue to struggle with September 11, the day our city was attacked. A report from a more remote position: aboard a military vessel in the Arctic Circle.