Being bullied in school When I was in 8th grade, I was bullied by my friends. Strike that. Classmates *I thought* were my friends bullied me. The shift in voice from passive to active makes such a difference here, doesn’t it? It emphasizes the violent nature of the abuse. As is so often the case … Continue reading Of bullying and bread pudding: My visit to Le Virtù on Passyunk Avenue
One Book, One Philadelphia is my favorite Free Library of Philadelphia program. I love that the program builds community through reading. For two months every winter, Philly becomes one giant book club. The programming is as diverse as the city itself, ranging from traditional book discussions and author events to themed workshops and cooking classes. … Continue reading What’s cooking with One Book, One Philadelphia this year?
I was born in Philly. For the first five years of my life, I lived just off Rising Sun Avenue. That changed when my parents loaded the three of us into a U-Haul and drove us nearly eight hours away to Akron, Ohio. Little did I realize at age five that I would move more … Continue reading Overdoing it: Moving
I hate Amazon’s review system. I consider it a trash fire sitting on top of another garbage fire lit by trolls and paid reviews. The reasons are numerous. I dislike the 5-star system. It’s too simplistic and doesn’t offer the user an option to rate the Amazon delivery experience separately from the product experience. Thus, … Continue reading Why I finally gave in to the dark side and started posting book reviews on Amazon
I love the Skyline Room at the Free Library of Philadelphia. The gold elevators you must take to get there and the spectacular view of Center City from the balcony are the hidden gems of the library. I have enjoyed every event I have attended in that space. From a One Book, One Philadelphia poetry … Continue reading Hungry Live at the First Person Arts Festival
Room 602 somewhere in Philadelphia…12:05 am Eastern Time / 10:05 am India Standard Time I sit in my studio apartment. The dogs snore loudly in their beds. The backlight on my Amazon Kindle glows a light blue. Within moments, she materializes. The Girl in Room 105. She’s mysterious and barely visible on the cover. I … Continue reading Keshav Rajpurohit is a tharki asshat, and I hate him: Rage-reading in the age of #metoo
In our post-literate world, who will have the last word?
I had just signed the lease on my apartment. I was an adult now. Naturally, I did what every reasonable adult would do. I climbed the Rocky steps, sat on the topmost stair, and cried. That August afternoon was hot. People on the steps would have mistaken my tears for sweat. Fortunately, my emotions evaporated … Continue reading Of steps and story slams: Rebirths, Returns, and Comebacks Story Slam at Wolf Humanities Center
Last night, the University of Pennsylvania did something it hasn’t done in 50 years, something radical. A teach-in.
I was in a literary fiction hellscape populated with unfocused ideas and disconnected connections. Saying too much and nothing at all. How the hell did I get here? Overcogitation, of course, dear reader. And appropriation. Wait. What? I hear you, dear reader. You thought this post was going to meander down the well-worn navel-gazing tunnels of writerly insecurity and doubt. Oh no. I’m sorry, dear reader. You’ve come to the wrong blog for that. This post is about culture and its appropriation.