The semi-glamorous life of the new media maven
Print journalism was once a reliable career path for the leading ladies of chick lit—now, not so much. But there is a strange glamour to the new media heroine.
Once upon a time, in magical New York City, a certain cable- television station began broadcasting from its Midtown headquarters a weekly series about four single women who lived right there, in magical New York City.
An autumn of tears is upon us. The funerals have begun. There will be no miracles; there will be only DNA tests, and agonies, and eulogies, and theodicies; and then the injured lifetimes will begin. A New York minute now lasts an eternity. The grief comes in many forms. People saw things and heard things that cursed their consciousness, and ways must be found to lift the curse. Even television left scars: never was the distance between the screen and the world so completely annulled. So trauma is everywhere, near and far.