"A spare, sharp memoir about the speed with which a comfortable existence can be blighted by grief.” —Bee Wilson, The Sunday Times (London)
“The morning after the attack, I almost broke down when a colleague asked if I was okay.”
“Fashion’s bright lights beckoned me toward New York.”
“I was obsessed with New York. I thought I'd found my forever home.”
“The year is the measure of a gentrifying neighborhood.”
“Times Square transformed from an adult sexual wonderland to an urban family playground.”
“Why are people building elaborate residential towers for no one to live in?”
Cities are beautiful in the rain, but only New Orleans bleeds it.
“I was amused, but I also registered that my privacy had been invaded.”
“The pulsing aorta of Brooklyn-brand hip.”
Learning to belong in my neighborhood.
This real life of cityscapes and sidewalks can destroy you.
Wandering the past and present of downtown L.A.
I moved to Brooklyn to eat at a restaurant.
What kind of story would you like to write?
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