We don’t usually think of writers as fashionable people. Indeed, the word “writer” calls to mind a slob in slippers and ratty bathrobe. Just as his desk is a disaster area of dirty dishes and day old coffee mugs, papers scribbled with half-formed ideas strewn everywhere, his appearance is disheveled: he hasn’t combed his hair … Continue reading
Man’s relationship to his muse has always been tempestuous. When the muse arrives predictably every day at our desks, we’re enraptured by our work, in love with our every superb sentence. Words seem to flow from our fingers with little help from our intellect. We’re not so much writing as taking dictation. Our work feels … Continue reading
Why do we conflate creating with suffering? The word “artist” conjures images of manic-depressive poets who drink themselves to death and mad painters who chop off their own ears. Our conception of writers is especially bleak. In our minds, the writer is a tormented soul who spends his days hunched over his desk, forehead wrinkled … Continue reading
I imagine my inner critic as a stern school teacher who wears prim cardigans and too-serious loafers. In her crisp button down shirt and impeccably coiffed hair, she is the paragon of perfectionism. Our inner school teacher is convinced there’s a right way to do things: introductions should have a hook followed by background and … Continue reading
We live in an age of distraction. Silicon Valley’s brightest engineers deliberately design apps to be addictive and monopolize our attention. “It’s as if they’re taking behavioral cocaine and just sprinkling it all over your interface and that’s the thing that keeps you coming back,” former Mozilla employee Aza Raskin told BBC, “Behind every screen … Continue reading
The Blank-Faced Confidante 