In which I recap the Knicks’ utterly predictable encounter with the historical Warriors via demonic possession, The Princess Bride, and one of actuality’s great paradoxes.
In which the Knicks got thoroughly destroyed, Chris Paul got justly popped in the grill, and…and there’s nothing else to say, really. The Knicks got destroyed.
In this week’s installment of Meet A Human, meet Emily Logan. Singer. Pianist. Copywriter. Admitted Nook owner. Blogger. And, most recently, published author. Logan’s novella, Paper, about a writer and a fictional character whose worlds increasingly intersect in reality, is available now. We spoke about the story, the writing process, seeing yourself in your work, the secretly delightful violence of editing, and – because it’s my blog – The Walking Dead.
How did Paper come about?
EL: I started writing it in Roger Rosenblatt’s class.* It was the very first class in the MFA that I took, so I think…the idea might have come from my fear that I was starting this whole writing journey and maybe I wasn’t cut out for it. Because I thought a lot about how much I go back and forth with writing, and I kind of feel guilty – “Why am I in this writing program if I have no idea how to write or finish a story?”
* [Editor’s note: I was in the same novella class.]
What was your writing process like with this story?
EL: My mind goes to different places at night, like when I’m just sitting there thinking about things and falling into a pit. Continue reading
In which a half-dozen Knick scribes, moi included, highlight the 2016 Knicks’ most unexpected positive developments that don’t involve Kristaps Porzingis, the greatest thing to hit New York City since…ever. The good news: there are at least a half-dozen non-KP developments to be excited about!
In which I recap the basketball equivalent of 改革開放 vs. пятиле́тки, indulge my immature side (nomenclature-wise), and reference one of the greatest moments in the history of The Simpsons.
In which I discuss the Knick hero’s tribute from his Latvian hometown, educate on the superhuman qualities of the Liepājan people, and implore New Yorkers to do their part to flatter Kristaps Porzingis, lest we lose this intercontinental version of Kramer vs. Kramer.
In which I recap the Knicks continued winning ways, liken a Latvian to a Russian and a giraffe, and discuss the most powerful cosmic event in the known universe.
By day, Eastin DeVerna is a mild-mannered English teacher. At night, he transforms into an all-powerful entity capable of creating or destroying entire worlds (mostly at night. Even gods prefer sleeping in). Eastin is a comic book writer, who – along with co-writer Ryan Davidson and artist Dan Buksa – created the new series Howl, which has gotten positive buzz. We spoke about the story world, his writing process, collaborating with a co-writer and artist, finding time to write with life always happening around you, what comics he’s reading these days, and what future works he has in store.
Publishing your own comic can seem as long a longshot as a spider bite giving you superpowers. Like a lot of creators today, you turned to crowdsourcing to help fund Howl. How was that experience? What has it yielded, for you and your backers?
EDeV: “The first issue is done, and that one has been distributed digitally…to the Kickstarter backers. That was actually finished before we did the Howl Kickstarter. We wanted that to be a reward that we could send out immediately once we were backed. I’ve backed a lot of Kickstarters before…sometimes it’s six months or a year or even two years before you finally get a reward. So we had that one finished, we paid for that out-of-pocket, Ryan and me. We funded issues two and three and the print run for issues one, two, and three.”
How did Howl originate?
EDeV: “[Ryan and I] probably came up with the idea in…2007 or 2008. We were talking…about what hasn’t been done.It was around the time that vampires were the biggest thing; zombies, The Walking Dead, all the movies. No one’d really tapped in on werewolves in a long time. Continue reading
One cold day around Christmas, visiting my family upstate, I was leaving a supermarket and had just reached the car when I turned my head and saw an elderly couple. The man was putting groceries in the trunk of his car. The woman was laying face-first on the pavement, not moving. The man turned, saw this, and started screaming.
“Help! Help! Please, somebody! Help!”
A group of people rushed over. I reached the woman first. She was so small, that doll-like frame you only see on the very young and very old. I wondered whether moving her was a bad idea; you always hear you’re not supposed to move people who are hurt. But it was freezing and she was seventysomething, laying facedown on pavement. It seemed a cruelty not to at least turn her over so she could see and speak.
She was balsa-soft, like flipping a feather. The sea green-blue of her eyes popped against the overcast sky. She looked very surprised and looked like she was chewing. There was blood pooling in the inside corner of her eye and a large cut from her cheek up to her temple; later, when the EMTs lifted her up for the ambulance, we could all see the gruesome damage to the back of her skull. Much worse than I’d imagined.
One woman held her hand and prayed the whole time till the EMTs arrived. It was raining. A supermarket manager walkie-talkied inside, asking for an umbrella to be brought out. He held it over her.
“I don’t suppose I’ll drown,” she said.