“Don’t come out until I come back!”
I worried I had broken the chatbot by trauma-dumping, and no one, human or machine, had the capacity to console me completely.
If he took a shortcut, if he made the creative process any easier for himself, the magic would be lost.
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I worried I had broken the chatbot by trauma-dumping, and no one, human or machine, had the capacity to console me completely.
If he took a shortcut, if he made the creative process any easier for himself, the magic would be lost.
The author of Julius Julius on ad agency ghosts, shaming PSAs, and sexual harassment post-#MeToo
The manner of my demise is of little interest, besides serving as our jumping off point.
The author of Daughter on writing as channeling, emails as gunfire, and emotional math.
The bush pricked everyone’s fingers and provided handfuls of blush-red fruit for the price, if you were willing to pay it. Every summer I lived in that house I was glad to.
How the actor Boris Karloff obscured his Anglo-Indian roots and reinvented himself into an icon of Hollywood horror.
How hopeful parents' struggles with a major Canadian surrogacy agency illustrate the need for regulation.
Random was what life did best, Bea thought. It conferred cancer on the virtuous, drunk drivers on the unsuspecting, it matched noble wives to unfinished men, wickedness to wealth, weakness to power.
The manager takes me into the back room to explain the company ethos and the role. Each neighborhood store should feel like just that, a neighborhood store, she says, reading from the brochure.