THE INDIE WRITER'S SURVIVAL GUIDE
Announcing The Indie Writer's Survival Guide: DOs and DON'Ts of Full-Time Freelancing: Year One
. Packed with practical information, this is a go-to resource for the new full-time independent professional writer, penned by a full-time indie with more than a decade of experience in journalism and research.Links to Online Interviews:
- Gotham Ghostwriters: The Manhattan-based ghostwriting network talked to me about the book and the work of the independent writer. Read the interview here.
- Rhymes Against Humanity: A podcast interview with host Adam Brodsky. Listen to it here.
- The Write Club: An interview with S.E. Sever. Read it here.
It seems like something out of The Jetsons, but it's real. Or at least it will be soon.
Terrafugia is perhaps just a few regulations and one very powerful battery away from clearing most of the hurdles it needs to create a flying car that consumers in the market for the equivalent of a super luxury sedan could afford . . .
Here's a guarantee: Come up with a problem involving systems, and technology innovators will seek to solve it. Make that problem the safety of passengers on airplanes, and the urgency those innovators bring to the table increases a hundredfold . . .
If you're a rail travel proponent, there's good news and there's bad news when it comes to high-speed trains . . .
A book like A Grand Complication: The Race to Build the World’s Most Legendary Watch may not be possible 100 years from now, according to author Stacy Perman. That’s because its subject — the most elaborate watch ever made — is not only one of a kind, but it is of a time that has perhaps forever passed . . .
One of the newest ideas in wine is that big things come in small vintages. Seattle-based Garagiste has a cellar full of niche and small-batch wines with big flavors . . .
RESIST! Magazine No.2
Months later, when the dreams came, I would hold her, waiting for her breathing to ease into gentler rhythms, for her visions of the silent blue bundle to slowly vanish. Hospital rooms haunted her sleep that summer, the nightmare silence of the delivery, the unreal weight of the small thing — the motionless small thing — endlessly replayed. Now, Friday the twenty-sixth of July was just a few minutes away. It was nineteen ninety-four and our brief parenthood had been over for almost a year. The luminous green numbers of the alarm clock hovered in the shadows, reforming every sixty heartbeats. Daylight stole into the house. Downstairs, when I turned the kitchen faucet nothing came out. The plumbing in the house was my own; I'd installed it and maintained it. Wiggling the faucet's screen and washer, a high-pitched wail. I snapped down the handle to cut off the noise. There was air in the pipes. I heard them sputter and clunk, rumbling in the walls, jumping inside the floors and ceiling. I didn't know about the dirt baby yet, but something was already different . . .
"Of course I felt as rotten as everyone else," said Bob Dylan, in 1971, talking about the assassination of John F. Kennedy some eight years prior. "But if I was more sensitive about it than anyone else, I would have written a song about it, wouldn't I? The whole thing about my reactions to the assassination is overplayed . . .
Sometime around the start of the gig, that Sunday evening in 1963, someone went downstairs at Club 47, in Harvard Square, in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and performed a typical before-show task. They turned on a reel-to-reel recorder . . .
For 83 years, it was a secret, encased in brick and plaster, undetected by the thousands who passed by each year. Then, earlier this month, on June 4, a laborer working on the construction of the new American Wing at the Museum of Fine Arts knocked a hole in a wall and saw an envelope sticking out of the pile of rubble . . .