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Writing at Wesleyan

Waking up in a strange bed, looking around, realizing that I am not in my element. It’s 5:45 a.m. At home, I would leap out of bed (okay, maybe not leap), make myself a cup of chaga elixir or some kombucha tea, eat some breakfast, then head to the gym. Here, I am restless. Nothing starts until eight – late for me, early for others. Everyone around me is a stranger and, yet, somehow, we’re all the same. Writers: A strange and varied set of people who are inextricably linked by the fact that each of us believes that we have a tale to tell. I say hello. They say hello back. We network. Networking is a pendulum which swings between intensely fascinating and unbearably boring conversation

Margaret Cho

Margaret Cho is hysterical and, yet, if I’m really honest about it, the Greenwich, Connecticut good girl who is still locked inside of me feels a little uncomfortable when watching this comedian push the proverbial envelope. Don’t get me wrong, I fucking love her stand-up (and, yes, I am risqué enough to use words like fucking), but some of her sexual subject matter makes me blush. And, yet, in my writing, I’m not squeamish about sex. I confront it. I mentally masturbate the topic (a creative play on words, don’t you

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