Hello. And welcome to this little experiment.
This column might best be described as “on deadline, off topic.”* I write here when I’m taking a break from my work, which is also writing. (No one ever gave me the advice not to do as a hobby what you do for a living.) For my job, I cover subjects like health, art, culture, style, and technology — subjects where if I write like I talk, I’d be fired. Here, I can procrastinate, warm up my keyboard, and generally get the jackassery out of my system before buckling down. For my clients, I write in their voices; here, I write in mine.
(* Or it might be described as “weird” or “ferocious” or “yellow.” Depends on who’s describing.)
A reader once compared these humor essays to “the last-page column in a magazine,” and I love that description. (Unless he meant a really horrible magazine, in which case… Actually, no. I still love it.) It’s the kind of silliness I used to email to friends; then they’d forward to friends; and so on. This is my way of sharing with friends-of-friends-of-friends. It makes me happy to make people laugh. I hope visiting the Blink gives you a break from whatever seriousness you’ve got going on. Thanks for reading. -ML
Timing: New posts go up every week or two, roughly. No set schedule. Quality trumps quantity. (Using “quality” loosely, of course.)
Language: Here’s the stance on it. (This is a pretty clean site, but still — it’s intended for grownups.)
Other Work: For the past 15 years, I’ve been an editor and writer-for-hire and have worked with some amazing folks and organizations. Out of respect for my clients (some of whom may prefer not to have a trail leading from them to this) my professional site is not linked here. I’m happy to share my work or discuss freelance gigs — just get in touch.
My humor writing can be found in places like The Rumpus, BlogHer, Loop, Mamas Against Drama, Mamapedia, Errant Parent, and The Football Girl. You can find a bit of my poetry at The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature.
Contact: Just tweet @wheniblink. If you’d rather email, feel free to write: wheniblink (at) gmail.
Legalese: My lawyer friends would like to remind everyone that all writing on this site is copyrighted and cannot be reproduced without express consent.
I Miss You When I… what? “I Miss You When I Blink” is one of my favorite things anyone has ever said. It’s the title of a poem my little boy wrote about me. (He retains rights to the title of his poem and has allowed me to borrow it temporarily.) Sounds deep, doesn’t it? I thought so too. Then I read the poem. Deep? Not so much. Funny? Absolutely. The word “blink” was rhymed with:
And it culminated in a drawing of a monkey (?) with lasers shooting out of its nostrils.