Pink lace memories

Yesterday, on my way back home right after my first Memoir writing class I found myself very distracted. I barely paid attention to the lights of Time square shining in front of me ( for someone who is living in New York only for two weeks they still are a surprising view). I couldn’t stop thinking... Continue Reading →

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Back to School: Gotham Edition

It's hard to think that graduation was almost a year ago. And, in the time since then, while I've written plenty, I haven't quite found my niche. By now I hoped to be out in Hollywood-- Malibu by day, meetings with Adultswim by night-- yeah, no, nah, not at all. At least I'm not in... Continue Reading →

Buongiorno Gotham

I get into the plane holding in my hands Invisible, a novel from Paul Auster and paraphrasing his words I can say about me that I’m a girl with an appetite for books and a belief (or delusion) that one day I would become good enough to call myself a writer. Even though I consider myself... Continue Reading →

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