About

I’m a writer with a few lifelong obsessions: language, music, making things myself, fashion, branding, magazines, photography, and film. People engage me to write (editorial, advertising, web copy, corporate communications, etc.), to edit, and to create and refine brand identities.

If you’re into it, what follows is a timeline of a few things that have shaped my life.

  • 1980: Memorized all of the Go-Go’s Beauty and the Beat record and both “Planet Claire” and “Rock Lobster” from the eponymous B-52′s record.
  • 1984: Was the only dork in 4th grade to be utterly in love with Elvis Presley; quickly learned not to talk about it at school (it was ’84, not ’54).
  • 1986: Won gold medal in national math competition. (??)
  • 1988: Discovered Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds; was alarmed, slightly afraid.  (Who was this deranged Elvis guy? Felt, somehow, that it was Important Music. But gave away Tender Prey cassette.)
  • 1989:Won various journalism awards. (For junior high school paper.)
  • 1990: Was only sophomore admitted to high school journalism staff that fall; won several news-writing awards.
  • 1991: Won award for co-written feature about obsessive love (note: totally not autobiographical!); shaved head, pierced nose.
  • 1992: Wrote to editor of now-defunct Dirt Magazine (brother publication to Sassy), requesting an internship position. Secured it; was too awed by its three staff members  to make any sort of lasting impression on anyone; created hand-drawn, collaged, photocopied zine called Fiend.
  • 1994: Portrayed circa 1750s prostitute in college stage production of Tom Jones (not the Welsh dude). Embarrassed a family member or two.
  • 1995: Was nominated for an Irene Ryan Award. Discovered Leonard Cohen. 
  • 1997: Got job at a film/television production company writing endless array of press releases, organizing events and being chewed out via telephone by C-list actresses and the wife of a revered sci-fi television show’s creator; talked the Borders store in West Hollywood into carrying Fiend (now made with computers!) on the shelves, from which I made approximately $8.
  • 1999: Married finest man in universe. Took with a disposable point-and-shoot and had it published in an actual newspaper accompanying an actual bit of journalism. LOLOLOL! Had an essay published in a book with the unlikely title of, I kid you not, Hot Chocolate for the Mystical Teenage Soul.
  • 2001: Lost all political naïveté; created Lulu Magazine, an online pub for teenage girls. Managed amazing staff, all working pro-bono, when not working at my day job for money.
  • 2003: Recorded a couple of songs in a band called The City Lights.
  • 2005: Gave birth to Rad Kid Who Takes Years Off My Life Daily.
  • 2006: Rediscovered Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. (Totally not scary.)
  • 2007: Read Pattern Recognition, which changed my life almost immediately and is very much one of the reasons I now do what I do.
  • 2008: Wrote/sang/recorded a couple of tunes in a band called Agent Vertigo. 
  • 2009: Launched copywriting/branding business, which rapidly expanded via Twitter. Accidentally corrected Craig Ferguson out loud on the topic of Twitter during a taping of The Late Late Show (it’s a very funny clip, but if you want to cut right to the Twitter chase, go to the 4:40 mark); was chastised in front of live studio audience. Met a zillion incredible people on Twitter, both accidentally and also on purpose. Was published in Long Beach Magazine and in The Daily Breeze. Also, did some things on Twitter, probably.
  • 2011: Interviewed and collaborated with some of my favorite creative people on the planet; began work on a  novel book of short stories novel; diligently/successfully avoided PTA meetings.
  • 2012: Shifted focus of work from copywriting to branding; read about 48 books; took on an awesome (seriously), in-house 9-to-5 gig in order to finish my novel. And, you know, health insurance. Sadly moved Jack Move into dormancy in order to focus on…
  • 2013: Oh, this novel. Man. This novel. Bill Gibson was right when he said that thing about how writing a book is like trying to dance while holding a refrigerator at hip height. But on we go…