I admit it. I read The New York Times. The online edition, of course, but probably not for the reason most other people do. I read the NYT because I can count on its presentation of the latest news in our current dystopia to be calmly, reassuringly unsensationalistic.
In other words, my carefully supervised pulse rate and blood pressure stay low.
Maya Angelou, who most likely never had to write on assignment or commision, once again demonstrates what she does best.
For me, writing from my heart has always (as in from the very first time I tried it back when I was 6 years old) been my greatest joy…and writing for any kind of master by deepest sorrow.
Just ran across this cartoon that we ran on TVWriter™ a couple of years ago. Its relevance to professional writers everywhere is still pretty darn clear.
In the original article, we quoted writer-producer-attorney Bill Fordes saying something that gets right to the essence of the cartoon. Without ever having seen or heard of it.
This year, the Television Academy pushed for diversity in many ways, including delivering more POC as Emmy presenters and (I’m pretty sure) nominees than ever before.
Yet every winning actor – and let’s be real here, actors are the public face of both the Emmy and Oscarcasts – was white. I suppose I should be happy that at least the voting members of the Academy are watching more than just the broadcast networks these days, but still, what I find myself feeling is:
THE USUAL NOTE FROM LB: From the summer of 2002 to the spring of 2010, Gwen the Beautiful and I were the proud and often exhausted owners of a beautiful Ozarks property we called Cloud Creek Ranch.
In many ways, the ranch was paradise. But it was a paradise with a price that started going up before we even knew it existed. Here’s another Monday musing about our adventure and the lessons we learned.