My thanks to Jack Prelutsky. Packing! Oh, Packing! I hate you, you stink. I wish I could throw All this stuff in the drink. These terrible boxes Are crowding my floor. I’m getting so flustered Each time through the door. Packing! Oh, Packing! You’re making me ill. These thick cubes of cardboard Are getting their fill. The crumpling of paper, The ripping of tape, All makes me just want to Run off and escape. ...
I began writing morning pages in June. I first came across the concept via Pagi when they made a post about it being rejected by App Store review. It was a funny way to be introduced to a new creative method, but I didn’t give it additional attention. The idea was tossed into some filing cabinet in my memory. Morning pages resurfaced in the second episode of Paper Places, a new podcast about writing on Relay FM. Hearing a conversation with actual writers let me more fully connect with the practice, and I decided to give it a shot. Every morning since June 3rd, I’ve taken time in the morning—not first thing, I do my puzzles before anything else—to sit down at a device1 and write about 1000 words, letting whatever pops into my head flow onto the page. ...
Last week we published episode 304 of Comical Start, We Were Very Stupid and Did Stupid Things. It featured our first ever proper guest—that is, someone we didn’t go to high school with. The whole thing felt surreal as it was happening, but it was cool that it happened at all. Give it a listen. It was a unique experience.
The world plays tricks on us. Nature can be brutal and unforgiving. It simply is; if you are on the wrong side of it being what it is, so much the worse for you. But look closely: there are moments of pure fairness, perhaps of generosity, that peek through. Consider the late afternoon on a viciously cold winter day. A biting wind winds its way through the air, its icy tendrils working its way in the gaps of your scarf, slapping at the inch of exposed skin between sleeves and gloves, sweeping across your nose. The air is pure and frozen. Snow deadens the world; it muffles sound that paradoxically travels farther and clearer. ...
From Anthony Castrovince on MLB.com: The St. Paul, Minn., kid made good on his 2001 selection as the No. 1 overall Draft pick by his hometown Twins to become a six-time All-Star, five-time Silver Slugger, three-time batting champ and the 2009 AL MVP. He was a member of four division-winning Twins teams. Though his catching career was cut short by concussions and five seasons as essentially a league-average first baseman complicated his Cooperstown case, Mauer made enough of an impact at his primary position to stand among the greatest to ever don the tools of ignorance. His .306 career batting average is tied for the sixth highest among catchers with at least 3,000 plate appearances, and his .388 on-base percentage is tied for third. He’s the only catcher with three batting titles, and his total of 44.6 bWAR during his 10 years as the Twins’ primary catcher from 2004-13 was by far the best at that position in that timeframe. ...
Groups of people can’t be forced to mesh. The intangible qualities of a team that works well together develops naturally through experience with each other and a shared understanding of their goal. It often requires leadership. Once everyone is flowing together, occupying their well-defined roles, the planned injection of a some humor or event to bond over becomes a layer of glue rather than a wedge of forced corporate optimism. ...
I’ve created a new website, markrichard-fiction.org. I’ll reference any stories or other writing I post there on this blog, but they’ll mainly be hosted there. It’s using the Write.as service, which is a sleek and quick spot to make an incredibly simple blog. I wanted to separate what I write here—almost exclusively blog and essay fare—from stranger projects I hope to undertake.
It’s once again time to be thematic. I’m calling 2024 my Year of Opportunity. Characterized by a desire to explore and treat new experiences with more positivity and excitement, I hope to make the most of what could be our final year living in California while also increasing my appreciation for the life I’ve built. ...
This year my company is officially taking a break starting the weekend before Christmas through New Year’s Day. I haven’t had a break from work this long1 since graduating college, and I am thrilled by the concept. Several of my coworkers are nervous about this change—we have customer support teams and we need to ensure our sites don’t suddenly break while everyone is gone—but I plan to revel in it in the intended fashion. I get to enjoy time with family and friends without distraction, without needing to burn additional PTO, and come back refreshed with an eagerness to get work done. ...
Erin and I spent a weekend north of San Francisco in a small house among the redwood trees. It overlooked a misty valley that offered the perfect balance of seclusion without isolation.1 We set up this small retreat to disconnect, focus on ourselves, and also discuss our yearly themes. ...