I’m a chronic list-maker. I come by it honestly–my childhood memories are sprinkled with my mother’s legal pads covered in notes–but I fell out of the habit after the baby. Now that I’m back at the desk, though, to-do lists are again mandatory, lest I […]
It took me two years to run my writing career into the ground, ten months to get over it, and a single instant to understand what I’d done and the one thing that could bring it back.
We get all verklempt when a celebrity dies, more so when they commit suicide. And with good reason: it reminds us of our mortality. If these modern-day gods can die, so can we. But depression isn’t a disease of leisure or ennui. It’s a monster attacking ordinary people you know and love, right now, right this moment.