2010-2019: A Decade in Review
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In the spirit of decade-in-review lists, I thought I’d look back at mine:
Move or Die. I moved a lot during this decade. I lived in Austin, Texas; Chicago, Illinois; Naples, Florida; and Los Angeles, California. Austin was hot, Chicago was cold, Naples was humid, and Los Angeles was — well, the other day, a guy told me there are two seasons in L.A.: summer and not summer. I liked living in those various places. You get to see the full point of view. I live in L.A. now and forever.
If All Else Fails: Retreat. I did a bunch of seminars, and residencies, and that sort of thing in this decade. I don’t think I’d done much of that before. That included THREAD at Yale (loved the train ride there and the Yale campus) in New Haven, Connecticut; the Logan Nonfiction Fellowship (amazing experience and made some of my great friends there) in Rensselaerville, New York; a Noepe Center retreat on Martha’s Vineyard in Massachusetts (not a great experience, but the island was cool); I was the Lawrence Grauman Jr. Post-graduate Fellow at the Investigative Reporting Program at the Graduate School of Journalism at the University of California, Berkeley in Berkeley, California (didn’t think I’d score that but you don’t get every fellowship you never apply for); and the Social Science Summer Institute for Journalists at the Russell Sage Foundation in New York, New York (nothing says summertime like the UES, the Met, and a Philip Johnson building). All of these experiences were interesting for different reasons. Please keep applying, even if you get rejected. I didn’t expect to get most of these opportunities. They bring you into new worlds.
Work It. I did a lot of work things during this decade. I was a journalist, and a fiction writer, and an editor, and a copywriter, and I did readings and talks, I wrote TV shows, and I was a mentor. For whatever reason, this piece I wrote for Billfold, “Blood Sacrifice,” is a standout in my head, probably partly because it’s so weird. I’m proud of what I did as the editor of Forbes Vices. And I liked helping develop the voice of Pepto-Bismol on Facebook. I was also delighted to self-publish “The Tumor,” which you should buy. If you want a career as a writer, you might want to diversify. That’s what I did. I wasn’t precious. If it involved words, I did it.
Hitched, Unhitched. I got married, and I got divorced.
When the Call Comes from Inside the House. In 2011, I was diagnosed with early-stage breast cancer. I spent a year and a half undergoing treatment: a lumpectomy, chemotherapy, radiation, and a gene-targeting IV drug for my specific type of breast cancer. I’ve been NED (No Evidence of Disease) ever since. I’ve tried to describe what the experience was like, and sometimes I compare it to the line in the movie where the guy on the phone says that the call is coming from inside the house. Most challenges come from outside the house. Your boss sucks, or your partner leaves, or you don’t get some thing you want. When cancer calls, it’s already set up inside the house that’s you. That is very hard. I am glad cancer is no longer calling me from inside the house, and I hope that it never does again. There’s no lesson here — other than people don’t know why they get cancer a lot of the time, and when you survive it, it usually just means the drugs worked. It’s neither more nor less dramatic than that.
Queen of Vice. More recently, I’ve been a strategic consultant for vice companies. As the editor of Forbes Vices, I learned a lot about vice. And, man, it sure does sell. I shot guns, sampled THC, drank well, ate better, watched porn get made, and generally had a good time. If you’re interested in hiring me as a consultant, email me at susannahbreslin @ gmail dot com. Sometimes, I’ve said vice is all the things that we like to do that aren’t necessarily good for us. They sure are fun.
The Cowgirl Is Back. In 2002, I started one of the internet’s first sex blogs. It was called The Reverse Cowgirl. Obviously, that’s a double entendre, but it was also a reference to my days horseback riding. Now I’m riding again, and jumping again. Which I love. There’s some confidence building, and there’s some athleticism, and there’s a recognition that when you’re on top of a 1,500-pound horse that’s sailing through the air, you’re not exactly in control. Which is the point of life, I guess. To let go and hang on for dear life.
[Selfie from my Instagram feed]