Meet Me in St. Louis and the gap between what we want the holidays to be and what they actually are.
JoinedMay 27, 2017
Articles11
Erika Schmidt is an award-winning writer living in Berkeley, California. She is the 2013 recipient of the Chicago Tribune's Nelson Algren Award for short fiction. A graduate of Northwestern University's Creative Writing and Theatre Programs, she has trained as a writer at StoryStudio Chicago and Narrative Magazine, and as an actor at the School at Steppenwolf.
On the one hand, it’s a thrill to see Don out in the open, no longer encumbered by his secret. On the other, honesty doesn’t seem to have clarified his life all that much.
There has to be some internal work going on, too. Otherwise the nostalgia will get you in the end.
This is the first time Don has ever been alone, secure but untethered, and without secrets.
Yowza. When you’re already cheering during the opening credits, you know it’s gonna be a good one. “Time & Life”...
I once had vertigo for twenty days straight. The dizziness was worst when I had to look up–to reach for...
I was always a little afraid Betty Draper might grow up to be Livia Soprano. When I tried to imagine...
In the end, Don is saved by strangers.
Whiplash opens on a black screen with a slightly-too-loud-for-comfort drum roll, starting so slowly we can barely recognize a rhythm. The...
So you’re on the run. The bad news: you’re being pursued by both international spies and by the American police....
She wasn’t an avatar for women’s liberation; she was the real thing. And, in the deft hands of Mary Tyler Moore, she was funny as hell.
