When I was in a filing cabinet for a month after an abundant but anxiety-inducing stint in London, a friend sent me an Instagram message encouraging me to apply for a job at the media company she was working for. She had dangled the dream – getting paid to travel write - like grapes over Tantalus, so, waist-high in weathered email records and newspaper clippings, I reached for them.
Read MoreYears ago I read an article* in which speculative fiction authors selected the modern cities that they most identified with urban science fiction: Venice - built on canals and susceptible, with time, to an Atlantean fate; Dubai - a luxury oasis of skyscrapers in an unforgiving desert; New York - seedy and wakeful, the flytrap of the dreamer.
Read MoreIn late June of 2013, I stumbled out of the Globe Theatre in a blissful haze, as if I were myself awakening from a pleasant dream in the woods beyond Athens and slowly regaining my feet.
Read MoreIf you knelt in the Open Ceiling Cave, you’d see a series of tributary tunnels running below it – Rudy assures us that they’ve been thoroughly searched - no treasure was found.
Read More
