writer. editor. content strategist.
When I came to New York City, I was 24. I wore a suit to my interview at ICM. It was August, so I arrived at the literary agent’s office soaked in sweat, with my long, Crystal Gayle hair stuck flat to my face. Somehow, miraculously, I got the job.
The late Lindy Hess of the Radcliffe Publishing Course—who rocked her own long, is-Joni-in-the-building sheets of hair—had put my resumé in the wrong box. On purpose. She had called me into her office after seeing I’d put my resumé in the box meant for folks wanting to stay in Boston. (There was a guy.)