I’ve written for everyone from the Funny Times to the New York Times and have appeared on both the Today Show and Morning Edition.
I’m the author of two collections of humorous essays about library work, Our Bodies, Our Shelves: A Collection of Library Humor and Just Another Day at Your Local Public Library (either of which would make a great gift for your favorite librarian or other bookish person.)
I’m also the editor of the ground-breaking (and now mostly out-of-print) Women’s Glib humor collections, including titles like Men are From Detroit, Women Are From Paris and When Cats Talk…
I couldn’t help but notice the other day that a thousand of my Medium followers had vanished into thin air.
One day, I had 7.8K followers. The next? Only 6.8k.
Why had a thousand readers decided to unfollow me? Was it something I said? I’m a humorist, and we humorists can sometimes tread on toes. Had my latest essay managed to outrage 1000 readers?
That was unlikely. My last post was about my adorable Yorkie-poo. That’s about as inoffensive as you can get.
I hit the Facebook groups for Medium writers and learned that Medium had decided to do a…
I recently read an essay by a writer who was full of good advice for the 60+ set about how to maintain our health as we aged. Eat lots of vegetables! Get lots of sleep! Lift weights! Avoid stress!
He concluded by proudly stating that he was in his seventies and totally med free. He didn’t have to pop a single pill with his morning coffee! The implication was that if we readers would only emulate him, we could toss our own pill boxes right out the window.
I’m 66. I live healthfully. I eat well. I swim. I walk…
Captain, our 14-year-old Yorkie-poo, had been eating the same brand of kibble since he was a puppy. We bought it online in gigantic sacks that were considerably larger than Captain was himself.
Captain, a small fluffy dog, weighs just 5 pounds. So each 8 pound bag of dog food lasted for many months.
Recently the company that makes Captain’s kibble went out of business. Suddenly his particular brand of chow was no longer available. We went online to try to buy up any that was still around — but other small dog owners had beat us to it.
Harriett’s Bookshop, named for American abolitionist and political activist Harriet Tubman, celebrates women authors, women artists, and women activists. The shop is located at 258 E. Girard Ave, in Philadelphia’s Fishtown neighborhood.
The popular neighborhood shop stocks new and used books for readers of all ages by authors like Alice Walker, Toni Morrison and Zora Neale Hurston as well as by newer writers.
Five years ago I learned that the man I’d loved and trusted for 20 years had a secret girlfriend for over a decade:
Which means that I was the target audience for this terrific Medium essay by Toni Crowe about the way a friend of hers handled being cheated on:
I loved everything about the way Toni’s friend behaved, from her initial response to finding out her husband was a cheater to her final response when he begged her to forgive him.
Now this is how it’s done, I thought.
If you’re anything like me, when you fall in love…
One of my goals in life is to always be in the middle of a good book.
The problem? Finding that many good books.
I’m a picky reader. I don’t finish every book I start. In fact, I maybe finish one out of twenty. If a book doesn’t grab me within 20–30 pages? I’m out.
When I worked in a public library, finding great new books to read and recommend was part of my job description! Every incoming book went through my hands. If it looked good? I’d read a page or two. If I liked it? I’d check it…
Last week I was at the grocery store, taking my items out of my cart and putting them on the little conveyer belt, when the man in front of me in line began shouting at me.
“Back!” he yelled, motioning angrily with his hands. “Back back back!”
I stopped what I was doing and stared at him.
“Back! Back! Back!” he shouted again. “Six feet! You aren’t six feet away from me! You have to be six feet.”
Actually, I was six feet away from him. Although maybe I was five and a half feet. I’m not 100% sure. …
Claps used to matter on Medium.
Writers were paid for Claps. Just claps. Nothing else mattered. The more claps your work received, the more money you got.
Sure, I made fun of that system. I’m a humor writer. That’s what I do.
But Claps as a metric really worked for me.
I joined the platform in February 2019. Within a few months, by basically living on the platform, I was able to make it into the 7% of writers who earn $100 a month here.
By September 2019, I’d met my personal goal — I was bringing in $100/week.
Medium just handed a bunch of writers $500 bonuses to reward something they refer to as “High Member Engagement.”
Which definitely sounds like something you might say when reviewing a porn film (“this little flick is packed with WAP and High Member Engagement.”)
But I’m pretty sure that’s not what Medium has in mind.
I’m thrilled to get an extra $500. Even if I don’t understand why.
To try to puzzle out a working definition of HME, I took a look at my May stats:
Number of posts published: 15
Average number of reads per post: 195
Average Number of…