When I interviewed Jonathan Reed, University of La Verne provost, I found that if he were stranded on a deserted island and limited to bring just three items, he would bring anything by Led Zeppelin, Kurt Vonnegut and the film “Lawrence of Arabia.”
When you are a journalist, every word counts.
Before now, it wasn’t my lifelong dream to become a journalist. As a kid, I didn’t stay up past my bedtime to watch the newscast at night. I never read newspapers. I didn’t care for current events. I didn’t even know what a lede was until my freshman year of college.
I’ve always been a curious person who is obsessed with knowing stories and having knowledge on really anything—from practical information to meaningless trivia.
Books have always been my escape from reality. For me, they were always the cheapest form of travel and a valuable form of education.
Sometimes I wonder whether I was born in the wrong era. I am inspired to write poetry on my Royal–Standard typewriter. I have a rotary telephone plugged into the wall and antique trunk luggage with vintage travel stickers stacked around my bedroom.
The thought of traveling has always fascinated me. I crave the feeling of adventure and adrenaline that comes with getting on a plane, the nerves of stepping into a new territory, the anxiety of trying to communicate in a different language, but especially that combination of being terrified of what you got yourself into and […]
It started with a hat—one dusty too small rigid little brown bowler with a red feather attached to the side.