The past two months, which ended with my Psych Today internship expiring and a couple of (thanks to Matt's edits, unrecognizable) articles in the current issue, left me feeling ambivalent about science journalism. I applied for a job at the Museum of Natural History- Moveable Museum Educator, which would entail driving a fossil mobile (a transformed Winnebago) from borough to borough, teaching the wonders of dinosaurs to young'uns who'd otherwise not visit the museum.
That would be the coolest job ever, but I never heard back, and haven't applied to anything else, so it looks like I'm going to ride out my (excrutiating) internship at CRI. (Where they just blocked gmail.)
Tuesdays and Thursdays, though, I'll be working, from home, as a sort of publicity agent for one of the editors at Psych Today, Hara. She wrote a book called A Nation of Wimps (www.nationofwimps.com) and in lieu of paying an agency (in addition to Random House, her publisher) $20K, she offered me the job of... well, I don't know exactly yet, but from our business brunch yesterday I gathered that I'll be, uh, publicizing the book. Which entails contacting people in the child-rearing business (the book is about overprotective parents wimpifying their kids), such as headmasters of schools and college parents' groups ("helicoptor parents"), and promoting Hara's book to them. And coordinating book-release parties on either coast (the one in LA is being thrown by Peter Guber, head of Mandalay Entertainment). And scheduling talks for Hara to give at conferences.
The best part of T/Th at home is being 23 streets and a Brooklyn Bridge away from the white-sneakered, gray-mustachioed Michael, the PT office lech, who offered me bananas and to show me the view of Gramercy from the balcony.
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