Curating your own interests is essential. There are so many think pieces devoted to curating your media diet or trimming down on the time that you spend on social media. The concept reads to me that too many people are passively letting crap come to them. Of course, the algorithm is shit, the algorithm only exists to . . .
The collective unconscious unleashed by giving most of the world a megaphone is an angry adolescent. We are seeped in the kind of angst usually reserved for punk kids smoking cigarettes waiting outside the all-ages venue. Our culture is so perpetually pissed off that furious displays of righteous anger don't feel . . .
Annalee Newitz's second novel, The Future of Another Timeline, finds her in good fighting form. If I wanted to give you a one-sentence synopsis of this book, it would be riot girls fight incels across time. If punk rock girls fighting neckbeards to guarantee universal suffrage and reproductive rights don't intrigue you, this book is . . .
Art and aesthetics are, indeed, subjective. You might have the dumbest taste in the world and haven't met a pandering piece of garbage you won't buy, but you will still enjoy it. It's hard to argue that enjoyment is wrong. On the other hand, I feel like we can even need to have some way to signify art made to . . .
I celebrated finishing NaNoWriMo last year, so it is just as fair to dissect what happened that I failed this year. I can break it down to two factors:
1. Being unprepared
I started the month with a vague outline of an idea, and never really managed to find my footing. I did manage to write a nearly thousand-word . . .
One of the weirdest things that happen as you get older is that you begin to realize that your self-perception isn't quite correct. Depending on your self-awareness, this ranges from having to accept unpleasant truths to having a full-on identity crisis as you begin to unpack how little you know yourself.
I . . .
It's not been a great month for writing time, between sickness and a big update at the day job. So this one is going up late, and things aren't looking good for a triumphant NaNoWriMo.
The term self-care gets stuffed with a lot of connotations of middle-aged rich people in spas with eucalyptus oil, cucumbers on the . . .