Category: Inspiration // Cool

Music for when you need to just zone out and write

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I recently asked my Facebook friends for some new music suggestions. I was particularly looking for music and artists they listened to when the coffee’s wearin’ thin and they’re in desperate need of some focus. The response was overwhelming and I had to share. Here’s the full list. Happy listening! Get back to work! It’s not the weekend… yet…

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Classical. Baroque to be specific.

Bossa Nova (multiple votes!)

John Coltrane’s album “Blue Train”

Sonny Rollins’s album “The Bridge”

Stereolab

Beethoven’s Seventh by the London Symphony

Spotify’s Brain Food playlist

Tycho (multiple votes!)

God Speed You Black Emperor (multiple votes!)

Tortoise

Sigur Ros

Miles Davis

Phish (studio albums only!)

Pretty Lights

Aphex Twin (multiple votes!)

Sts9

Astrud Gilberto

Sergio Mendes

Walter Wanderly

The New Pornographers’s new album “Whiteout Condition”

The High Art soundtrack

Miles Davis’s album “Kind of Blue”

Debussy

Beach House (multiple votes!)

Explosions in the Sky (multiple votes!)

The End of the Ocean

Washed Out

Squarepusher

The Social Network soundtrack

Ritual

Bon Iver

Olafur Arnalds

Max Richter

Nils Frahm

The Zelda Soundtrack

Spotify’s Vietnam War Era Music

Iron & Wine

Spotify’s RetroWave/ Outrun playlist

Loscil

New Brighton’s album “Sketches”

Handel’s “Water Music”

James Horner

Bonobo

Prefuse 73

Lemon Jelly (my favorite so far!)

Mingus or other jazz

Haim’s album “Something to Say”

Toubab Krewe’s self titled album

Townes Van Zandt

Colter Wall

Son House

Devendra Banhart

Milk & Bone

Erik Satie

Grouper

Boards of Canada

Do Make Say Think

Vitamin String Quartet

The Pride and Prejudice soundtrack

Clutchy Hopkins

The Speedbumps’s new album “When the Darkness Comes”

Lo-fi Chill Out YouTube channels

Frodus’s album “And We Washed our Weapons in the Sea”

This Will Destroy You

Pelican

The Dirty Heads’s album “A Port in Any Storm”

Amelie soundtrack

Maurice Ravel

Russian Circles

Purity Ring (“Also good for casting spells,” my girl Abernathy)

Words on the Street: September 7, 2017

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Getting straight to the point inside an electrical company’s offices in Marion, Ohio.

Passive aggressive messages left on cars happen early and often in Chicago’s crammed streets. The washed-and-dried look of these notes allow us to deduce that this car has been here for a while.

I think the theme this week is really direct signage. “Rear.” “Office.” “463.” All the news you need.

There have to thousands of nail salons in Chicago. I love seeing how they name themselves. It’s always some variation of “Nail”. Hot Nails. Cool Nails. Diamond Nails. Nails.com (which does not have a website and definitely is not the owner of the domain of which its business title speaks). Nail Story is a pretty good one. My nails would tell a super gross story.

Heh. Heh. Body man wanted indeed… Another Chicago signage trend: Body shops with really innuendo-heavy language. There’s a place by my apartment that boasts “Best Hand Job in Town.” Maybe something was lost in translation?

“When your car is feeling blue. We paint it yellow.”

Zing.

More like words on the beach. Shoutout to our honeymoon!

Clever girl. Free snacks!

Zero juice, OK?

Almost too obvious to be in a character sketch.

FYI.

Direct signage ftw.

Sometimes it’s best when you say nothing at all.

My list of books to read this month

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“American Fire”

by Monica Hesse

Diligently reported by Washington Post writer Monica Hesse, this is the true story of a decaying rural town in West Virginia that faced down a pair of arsonists who set fire to 60+ abandoned buildings over the course of half a year. The book covers the town, which as become symbolic of the struggle of modern middle and working class America, and the confounding couple that struck the match to burn it down.

 

“Eat Only When You’re Hungry”

by Lindsay Hunter

I just joined Book of The Month Club, a monthly online book service that lets you pick from its selection of new book recommendations. For $14.99 a month, you get a new book that’s been curated by a panel of voracious readers just like you. This August selection was my first pick. It’s written by a Chicago writer (heyyy!). It’s an anti-hero’s journey of a father on a mission to find his addiction-addled son, who has been missing for months.

“Plot & Structure”

by James Scott Bell

A Writer’s Digest University find. This book promises to help me understand the difference between plot and structure and how to outline like a pro. (Almost-Pro-Tip: Check out Groupon for deals on the magazine’s classes and workshops before you pay full price.)

 

“The Wrong Way to Save Your Life”

by Megan Stielstra

Anything Roxane Gay-recommended will make my to-read list, but Stielstra does her own heavy lifting in this book of literary essays about fear, faith and how to live a better life. Yes, please.

Six ways to prepare to #wfh and live the dream

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In June I left my full time job to work contract and freelance hours. The goal is to free up time for my creative side hustle, with the goal that those projects will eventually become the main hustle.
I’ve contracted full time before, so I knew what to expect. It’s not for everyone, but it’s perfect for me if I stay focused. I like that I save time on my morning and night commutes. I also am way more productive because I can work on my own terms, which is motivating (not to mention the meetings I get to sit out that always seem to eat up so much time). It’s also perfect for dating a comedian who works at night. (Oh wait! We are married now! Eeeee!) I like that, when possible, I can work night shifts like he does and we can spend the afternoons together.
I recognize how lucky I am to get to do this. Not a lot of jobs or professions allow for this kind of freedom. I also recognize how hard I’ve worked to get to this point. Like Roxane Gay says:
I was much more prepared for this second go at freelancing full time. Here are some tips that made a longterm setup like this possible. Good luck!

Dust off your contact list a few months before going rogue

Reach out to employers or contacts who may hire freelancers that do your kind of work. Let them know when you’ll be available for hire. Keep it cordial. Don’t sound desperate. Offer your updated resume and CV and thank them for their time, regardless of an opening or not.

Save six months of expenses

That sounds like a lot of savings, but it’s for peace of mind as you wait for checks to roll in. Sometimes publications don’t pay until the work has been published, and when you’re writing for magazines, that can mean you’re waiting two sometimes three months until you get your check. Be sure to ask when you sign a contract what to expect in terms of a payment schedule.

Start an invoice and check tracker

I have a Google Sheet that tracks my assignments, publication contact info, date of assignment, due date, date submitted, date of invoice, invoice number, check number and date payment was received. I also keep notes on whether or not taxes were taken out of each check. That will come in handy come tax season and also helps you remember what amount of spendable money you *actually* have in your bank account.

Get that calendar sharp

Google Calendar is my other freelance lifeline. I have my personal and work calendars separated but can view them both at once. They’re color coded. Google: Making creative people organized since two thousand and whatever. I’m a sucker for paper calendars but I’ve found I just cannot keep up with adding or changing everything in by hand. The Google Calendar lets me stay flexible and I can add to it on the go on my phone. I create an event for 6 am each day of the week that keeps a running to do list so I don’t miss anything. This is helpful when you’re working for multiple contacts.

Work on your self discipline

I have a sign on my desk that says “Get shit done.” Seriously. You need to get shit done. Approach your at-home work hours the same you would in-office. You wouldn’t do the dishes or decide now is the perfect time to bleach the shower while on the clock. You shouldn’t at home either. Having set work hours dedicated to work only is the standard for a reason: It, well, works.

Thank your lucky stars

Don’t take the work or your work life for granted. Here are some images from the New York Public Library that make me do a little dance that I was born when I was, where I was, as I was. Some things hard work can’t count for. <3
Carpenters and construction workers waiting outside Florida State employment office trying to get jobs on Camp Blanding in Starke, Florida. December 1940.

 

“Closing Time” by artist Ann Nooney for the U.S. Works Progress Administration.

 

General Office at the Gordon-Pagel Co., Detroit. Postcard issued 1898-1931.

 

Poster by artist Ben Shahn. Circa 1935.

Three places to find awesome nontraditional wedding readings

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Books

Oh, writers. My favorite kind of people. They’re the best at describing what love looks like, tastes like, feels like, even when they fail at keeping it — and those keenly sensitive types often fail at keeping it — because they’re so observant, so prone to seeing the world, and thus love, in a new way and describing it like only they can. Their gifts are our worth more than a mine drowning in wedding diamonds.

“A Farewell to Arms” by Ernest Hemingway, 1929

At night, there was the feeling that we had come home, feeling no longer alone, waking in the night to find the other one there, and not gone away; all other things were unreal. We slept when we were tired and if we woke the other one woke too so one was not alone. Often a man wishes to be alone and a woman wishes to be alone too and if they love each other they are jealous of that in each other, but I can truly say we never felt that.

We could feel alone when we were together, alone against the others. We were never lonely and never afraid when we were together.

Comedy sets

I also have a weak spot for comedians. I’m marrying one. Comedians are like writers but harder and rawer around the edges (a nice balance for a writerly softie like me). But underlying their calloused scorn is always, always something deeper than the rest of us would be willing to journey down. The greats make you laugh because they understand something you haven’t seen or thought about yet. They’re ten steps ahead of you, of all of us, in putting it in words. And their brilliance is making you laugh at something so very real and, sometimes, find hope in a place so terribly dark. Just like love.

“It’s just a ride” by Bill Hicks, 1993

The world is like a ride in an amusement park, and when you choose to go on it you think it’s real because that’s how powerful our minds are.

The ride goes up and down, around and around, it has thrills and chills, and it’s very brightly colored, and it’s very loud, and it’s fun for a while. Many people have been on the ride a long time, and they begin to wonder, “Hey, is this real, or is this just a ride?”

And other people have remembered, and they come back to us and say, “Hey, don’t worry; don’t be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride.”

And we … kill those people.

“Shut him up! I’ve got a lot invested in this ride, shut him up! Look at my furrows of worry, look at my big bank account, and my family. This has to be real.”

It’s just a ride.

But we always kill the good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok … But it doesn’t matter, because it’s just a ride.

And we can change it any time we want. It’s only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings of money. Just a simple choice, right now…

Between fear and love.

The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love instead see all of us as one.

Here’s what we can do to change the world, right now, to a better ride. Take all that money we spend on weapons and defenses each year and instead spend it feeding and clothing and educating the poor of the world, which it would pay for many times over, not one human being excluded…

And we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace.

Song lyrics

Of course, the trick is picking one that can be read without immediately thinking of the melody. I can’t read aloud the lyrics to “Something,” one of the greatest love songs of all time, without putting on my best George Harrison voice by the second verse. “Into My Arms” is perfect. All poetry and longing limbs outstretched, doubt in God but faith in love. That’s as non-traditional as they come.

“Into My Arms” by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, 1997

I don’t believe in an interventionist God
But I know, darling, that you do
But if I did I would kneel down and ask Him
Not to intervene when it came to you
Not to touch a hair on your head
To leave you as you are
And if He felt He had to direct you
Then direct you into my arms

Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms

And I don’t believe in the existence of angels
But looking at you I wonder if that’s true
But if I did I would summon them together
And ask them to watch over you
To each burn a candle for you
To make bright and clear your path
And to walk, like Christ, in grace and love
And guide you into my arms

Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms

But I believe in love
And I know that you do too
And I believe in some kind of path
That we can walk down, me and you
So keep your candles burning
And make her journey bright and pure
That she will keep returning
Always and evermore

Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms

Words on the Street: August 10, 2017

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A sticker on a car in Columbus. A strong, certain word for a strong, certain statement (those are supposed to be ovaries, ICYMI).

I like this Ruthie’s use of the present tense. Is you still here, Ruthie? Is you a ghost? Is is a bold choice. Is we ever really anywhere? Do we ever leave? I’m into it, Ruthie.

From the Blue Line. A train car interior covered in black plastic, bearing a single word: “Hide.” An alien looked down from the ceiling, as if he was climbing through, trying to get to his very important business meeting in The Loop. It’s an ad for the movie “Alien: Covenant.” Creepy. Cool. A word like “Hide” becomes immediately off-putting when placed inconspicuously in a daily setting. It feels more off-putting than someone actually yelling, “HIDE!”

At an Ohio hotel’s continental breakfast. It’s never too early for farm puns.

You’re right. It was won by Native American genocide, but, like, I get what you’re saying. Saving this for character dialogue someday.

Irving Park. An example of how we still mark our territory and claim it. Someone is homesick.

First place “Most Magical” pie at an Ohio county fair. When making this recipe at home, don’t forget you need two fluffy bunnies and the lady bugs must be of a friendly disposition. <3

A little free library. With an even littler step ladder. <3 <3

Words on the Street: August 3, 2017

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I’ve been reading Margaret Atwood’s 2000 book, “The Blind Assassin.” Have you ever read a book and/or writer and thought, “Why am I even trying? This is brilliant.”? That’s how Atwood makes me feel. She’s a triple threat–genius storyteller, wordsmith and rebel thinker. A tiny example, this description of a dress as “… something easy to overlook but sharp, like a common kitchen implement — an ice pick, say — just before the murder.” This book is riddled with mic-drop metaphor after mic-drop metaphor.

As you can see from above, I brought my book to a baseball game. We had to get cash out of a BMO Harris ATM to get nachos for, you know, game watching (book sneaking). I liked this ATM tagline alongside the info that, though be it 2017, seat vendors are cash only.

True. This bunting in a Lakeview window display made me double take. What does it mean?? What is true??? Better question: What is not true? WHY IS LIFE SO COMPLICATED?

Stickers in River North, like writing prompts shouting from the sidewalk. What would qualify as the Last Great Riot? Why?

We went to the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago during my bachelorette weekend to see the Takashi Murakami exhibit. The art and curation were awesome, as expected, but I was drawn to the exhibition’s title, “The Octopus Eats Its Own Leg.” It’s from a Japanese story about how an octopus will eat its own leg to save itself, knowing the tentacle will grow back. Murakami explores how artists do the same thing, but with no guarantee of regeneration. (See more of my pictures here.)

A clever name for a used clothes drop-off. USA GAIN, use again, etc. I get it… It makes me eyeroll every time I walk by it though, as if it’s saying, “Hey, it’s us again. You really need to purge your closet and donate it to us and also stop buying so much shit that doesn’t fit you.”

Server shirts at Girl and The Goat, the lightning hot Chicago restaurant. You can’t be in Chicago during baseball season without hearing “Go, Cubs, Go” chanted at least thrice. Here’s a fun take on that.

There are so many agencies in this city, it’s no surprise the science of user experience + graphic design is evident in the least expected places. I love this example from a building in the West Loop. It’s a map of all the restaurants and attractions nearby. A writer was probably the least important creative to making this happen, but there’s cute stuff in there.

Summer style trends I can get behind

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Satin kimonos

I’ve amassed three in the course of the past few months. Perhaps this is how wannabe manic pixie dream girls ease into their early thirties. Give it ten years and we’ll be bringing muu-muus back.

Consent signs at music festivals

At Pitchfork, I saw several signs like this, reminding everyone that day drunk does not fair game automatically make. Are consent signs the new flower crown?

From Tumblr.

The low chunky heel

Hello, beautiful.

Now city girls can actually wear some semblance of heel without snapping an ankle. Hooray! Long live our ankles!

Pattern mixing

“Rules are there ain’t no rules.”

Polka dots + flowers + stripes = crazy no more. Proof we can all just get along.

Cryptic fashion pins

This looks like a cute bag with a pin of Garth praying.

In fact, it’s Mike Diana, an underground cartoonist who was the first person in the United States to receive a conviction of artistic obscenity. I got this pin as a gift for supporting this Kickstarter documentary about his work, the case and how artistry of all stripes can survive the minefield of free speech in America.

Also, I play tennis now. So. Vogue.

Our cheap wedding RSVPs keep making my day

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We didn’t want to spend much on wedding invitations. In fact, Justin preferred we do it all online.

But considering that this is only happening to us once (ringed-fingers crossed) and my sister is a professional graphic designer willing to create an invite and custom envelope free of charge, I couldn’t not have this physical representation of our nuptials.

Nuptials. See also:

  • Wedding
  • Big Day
  • Ceremony
  • Marriage
  • Union
  • Matrimonial Event

I’ve been writing for a regional wedding magazine since I was 22 (and 100% percent certain I would never get married. Typical.).

That’s 9 years of finding synonyms for wedding words I write over and over again and covering trends in the wedding biz, which is as monstrous in scope as Bride of Frankenstein’s hair.

Key takeaways imparted on me through this work include:

  • Some venues will nickel and dime the ever living frosting out of you. Ask about eve-ry-thang. Do they charge for the linens? What about cutting and serving the cake — is there an extra charge for that? Do you have to pay for the bartender’s services in addition to the alcohol? I sounded like a jaded divorcee on her third marriage asking all of this and more of my venue’s director, but now I know there will be no surprises on the final bill.
  • It’s always worth hiring a professional. For any of it. Except maybe making the centerpieces. Those you can recruit siblings, cousins and mothers for.
  • Make it your own. The best weddings and the happiest couples I’ve interviewed did what they wanted for their <insert above word of your choosing here>. Etiquette, tradition and standards be damned — or rigorously applied, if that’s what you’re into.

As I’ve pointed out before, I have a thing for snail mail. Though, who doesn’t? Unless it’s a bill, getting letters and postcards in the mail is as Santa Claus as an adult is going to get.

A box of postcards had been gathering dust in my myriad apartments’ closets since about 2012. I bought them from Anthropologie for a fluffy feature magazine article about cool things made out of books or inspired by books.

Flowers crafted from torn out pages, their words never to be read in order again. Sturdy jacket spines transformed into a hipster-approved mobile. Postcards of Penguin’s most colorful hits.

I remember getting reader hate mail for this magazine piece. Never underestimate the fury of a bored, lonely, passionate reader.

How dare books be seen as any kind of art beyond that of writing? What a crime to desiccate these tomes or admire them for their design purposes. I and people like me were to be the downfall of this great country!

But hey it was mail. Santa giveth.

I don’t know why I never threw the box of cards out after the photo shoot. A guess: I had bought them with my own starter journalist salary ( = not much) and couldn’t bear to throw away something that felt so expensive to me at the time ($40 could have bought a lot of toilet paper and Lean Cuisines).

So there they sat. And there they moved. And moved. And moved again. Until I tucked them into our latest place, deep in a desk cabinet, all set to wait out another year in the dark corners of the envelope drawer. Stories buried. Pandora’s box on PTO.

It’s not like I didn’t try to use them before this. But whenever I’d effort to make a selection, I’d be overcome by their beauty and selfishly wish to keep them to myself. Or I’d fear their hidden messages could accidentally offend.

Because, in typical Millennial milieu, I don’t know much about what these postcards actually represent, what the books were about — I just loved their jacket covers, the colors and the style, and what they could mean symbolically. I love books, after all. Just not these ones. Most of them remained a mystery to me.

I feared sending a grandparent, for example, a postcard with a seemingly innocuous book title and pretty cover print only to find it’s about repopulating Mars and all the wooing, weird and wetness that would entail. A book that perhaps caused a scandal in their day! Too big a risk.

But as we planned our wedding invitations to one of our three events (ugh I know… we’re those people… ceremony in Chicago, two parties in our Ohio hometowns), the box of Penguin postcards nagged the back of my brain.

How fun would those be as RSVPs? (Also, how deliciously free.) A “love story” theme for our Marion reception? Sure, they didn’t match the beautiful invitations my sister made, but what have I learned? Do what you want. It’s your wedding after all.

I knew I risked someone reading too much into a title. I was selective.

Some postcard titles that didn’t make the wedding RSVP cut:

  • The Horizontal Man
  • The Lost Girl
  • Dreadful Summit
  • Middlesex (awkward)
  • Flying Dutchman (sounded like a slang sex position… also awkward)
  • Vile Bodies
  • Man Trap (ha!)
  • Warfare by Words
  • The Case of the Half-Awakened Wife (I’m woke!)

As Justin compiled his reception’s Facebook invites, I formed a factory line for mine, thoughtfully choosing a postcard for each invitation and working my tongue dry with envelope sealing, like a kitten who got into the salt lick.

Keying and creaking open my rusty mailbox the past month has been a joy. Bronte and Austin and Fitzgerald await. Sixties style art reproductions stand at attention beside desperate credit card offers and Bed Bath & Beyond coupons.

My reception guests respond exactly as I expect each of them to — some add stickers and drawings to the postcards, others just tell me their guest count and sign their name. Some get so excited they forget to sign it. Luckily I remember which postcard I picked for them and know who of my friends would forget to sign a postcard they sent. (To be fair, I would forget too. That’s probably why we’re friends.)

It felt good to get rid of the postcards, to use them in some productive way. But as a buddy pointed out: Technically, I didn’t get rid of them.

Like bookish boomerangs, back they come. To sit in my drawers for another six or seven years. But with my own story, my own favorite characters now imprinted on them.

Words on the Street: July 20, 2017

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A CTA and a directive in one smart sentence. Napkins are so helpful.

That’s a new one to me. So says Oxford: “A red, plum-sized tropical fruit with soft spines and a slightly acidic taste. Early 18th century, from Malay ramutan, from rambut ‘hair,’ with allusion to the fruit’s spines.” Heh. Ram butt.

This image alludes to most of the writing I’ve been doing the past week. That of thank you notes. I like imagining what a “well-managed forest” looks like. The rabbits have daily staff meetings and the oaks delegate responsibilities fairly.

Mmm-hmm. Outside a vet’s office outside Chicago’s River North.

“Home is where you dive into a novel.” It’s also where you dream of being while waiting at this bus stop, trying to distract yourself with said novel.

“Made with water, barley and hops. Anything more would be like putting ketchup on a hot dog.” For those of you who don’t know, putting ketchup on a hot dog is a mortal sin to legit, born-and-raised Chicagoans. Definite regional copywriting win.