My time at Main Street Magazine has been marked by long production weekends, InDesign frustrations and a lot of red pen. I’ve sat in a chair in the Newsroom playing with the InDesign layout on the same story for three hours straight. I’ve spent eight hours a day, each day of the weekend working on story after story, even before I officially worked for the magazine. But the frustration of being forced to function with a fidgety program does not even come close to overshadowing the satisfaction I got from doing work that I love.

When I express to people how much I love editing, I get some odd looks. And yes, I’m talking about the nitty gritty, keep it in parallel structure, no-more-oxford-comma kind of editing. That painstaking process of perfecting each word, sentence and phrasal structure. To some people, it sounds like hell. To me, it sounds like home. There is nothing more satisfying than taking a story with creative...

Leaving home. It’s a tragic phrase, charged with images of dramatic farewells and scary new beginnings. It conjures up the idea of an era ending. Of swing sets with no one on them and childhood bedrooms collecting dust. Even though it’s an irrefutable reality for all who have somewhere to call home, we still feel the desperate desire to deny it. We have to grow up and that means changing. We even used to dream of the changes that may come. Yet when that day arrives, we can’t help but ask, “Why now?”

When I was little, I played imaginary games with my brother and sister. My little sister and I would set up our Barbie doll world with a house and a family and babies, and it would inevitably be destroyed by Bionicles controlled by our big brother. I have always known, since I was a little girl in a perfect little family, that I wanted that out of life. I want the house and family. I want that perfect little picture that I...

There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who divide people into two categories and those who don’t. I like to consider myself the latter.

Speaking honestly, if there are two groups of people, they’re the thinkers and the doers. These groups can be further recategorized into three groups: those who think but should do, those who do but should think, and those who really have no business involving themselves in anything at all.

I edit because I can’t write.

You’d think that the journalistic food chain would have the best writers graduating and becoming editors. It would make sense that the editors get to tell everyone else what to do because they’re the head honchos - they’ve seen it all, done it all and, most importantly, written it all. They’re the most creative and special fruits in the bunch.

Not so. It is true for some; we have an all-star cast of editors who are absolutely the sharpest pencils in the drawer....

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