Once upon a time, there was this wonderful thing called “print.” People used to spend days, weeks, sometimes even months researching and writing thoughtful “magazine articles” that would eventually be published on real, glossy paper—producing an actual object that could be manipulated, riffled through, and (in a dire emergency) used to start a fire. These artifacts would inhabit people’s homes for a remarkably long period—often displayed in a special, prominent spot on a coffee table where anybody could pick one up and read it—even if the Internet connection was down. Eventually, they would be transported to a bedside table upstairs, where they would often linger, unopened, for months before they were read and disposed of. It was a different, slower-moving world than the one we inhabit now.
You can read some examples of my magazine journalism below:
One Year in Adoption Hell, New York Magazine
Hair Testing for Drugs, The Nation
“The Money and The Power” Review, BusinessWeek
Candid Camera, The New Republic
The Little Producer That Couldn’t (Dino DeLaurentiss in Hollywood), Spy
Xbox Detox, Sierra Club Magazine
Brave New Whirl 