Filtering by Tag: MEMOIRS

Data Baby Featured on NPR's The Sum of Our Data

I was interviewed about my memoir, Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment, for NPR’s To the Best of Our Knowledge. The episode is “The Sum of Our Data,” and it includes interviews with The Right to Oblivion: Privacy and the Good Life author Lowry Pressly and The Afterlife of Data: What Happens to Your Information When You Die and Why You Should Care author Carl Öhman. You can listen to it here.

From the description:

“Every click on your computer, every swipe on your smartphone, leaves a data trail. Information about who you are, what you do, who you love, the state of your mind and body... so much data about you, expanding day by day in the digital clouds. The question is—do you care? Would owning your data, or having more digital privacy, make life better? And what happens to all that data when you die?”

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Data Baby the TV Series, an AI-Generated Pitch

Yesterday, I shared a Meta AI-generated pitch for a potential movie inspired by my memoir, Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment. Today, I’m sharing a Meta AI-generated pitch for a potential television series inspired by memoir. Once again, I thought AI did a pretty good job. Here’s how our conversation went:

First, I asked Meta AI to generate a pitch for Data Baby as a TV series.

Here's a pitch for a TV series based on the memoir Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment by Susannah Breslin:

Title: Data Baby

Genre: Psychological Drama, Family Saga

Logline: A young girl, raised in a radical psychological experiment, must navigate the blurred lines between family, science, and identity.

Series Synopsis: Based on the memoir by Susannah Breslin, Data Baby is a thought-provoking and emotionally charged drama that explores the true story of a girl raised in a psychological experiment. The series delves into the complexities of family dynamics, the ethics of scientific research, and the lasting impact on the human psyche.

Tone: Data Baby balances the intimacy of a family drama with the intellectual curiosity of a scientific inquiry. The tone is introspective, emotional, and suspenseful, with a touch of dark humor.

Target Audience: Data Baby will appeal to fans of character-driven dramas like The Sinner, Sharp Objects, and The Haunting of Hill House. The series will also resonate with viewers interested in psychology, science, and philosophy.

Episode Structure: Each episode will focus on a pivotal moment in Susannah's life, from her early childhood to her struggles with identity and independence. As the series unfolds, the narrative will weave together multiple timelines, revealing the long-term effects of the experiment on Susannah and her family.

Themes: Identity, Family, Science, Ethics, Trauma, Resilience

Visuals: The series will feature a muted color palette, reflecting the sterile and controlled environment of the experiment. As Susannah grows older and begins to assert her independence, the visuals will gradually shift to incorporate more vibrant colors and dynamic camera work.

Key Cast:

— Susannah Breslin (protagonist)

— Dr. David (psychologist leading the experiment)

— Karen (Susannah's mother)

— Supporting cast: family members, researchers, and friends who become entangled in Susannah's life

This TV series adaptation of Data Baby offers a unique blend of psychological insight, family drama, and scientific curiosity. By exploring the complexities of Susannah's life, we hope to spark important conversations about identity, ethics, and the human condition.

Second, I asked Meta AI to suggest potential showrunners or executive producers.

Here are three potential showrunners or executive producers for the TV series Data Baby:

1. Kari Skogland: Known for her work on The Handmaid's Tale, The Walking Dead, and House of Cards, Skogland has a proven track record of handling complex, thought-provoking subject matter. Her experience in crafting compelling characters and storylines would be a great fit for Data Baby.

2. Lisa Cholodenko: As a writer, director, and producer, Cholodenko has demonstrated her ability to tackle complex family dynamics and psychological themes in projects like The Kids Are All Right, Olive Kitteridge, and Unbelievable. Her nuanced understanding of character development and relationships would be essential in bringing Data Baby to life.

3. Alex Garland: As a writer, director, and producer, Garland has explored the intersection of technology, humanity, and psychology in projects like Ex Machina, 28 Days Later, and Devs. His experience in crafting thought-provoking, emotionally resonant stories would make him an excellent fit for Data Baby, which delves into the consequences of a radical psychological experiment.

Third, I asked Meta AI to suggest potential writers.

Here are three potential writers for the TV series Data Baby:

1. Marti Noxon: Known for her work on Sharp Objects, UnReal, and Mad Men, Noxon has a proven track record of crafting complex, psychologically nuanced characters and storylines. Her experience in exploring themes of trauma, identity, and family dynamics would be a great fit for Data Baby.

2. Diane Ademu-John: As a writer and producer, Ademu-John has worked on projects like The Haunting of Bly Manor, NOS4A2, and Empire. She has a talent for weaving together complex characters, plot threads, and themes, which would be essential in bringing the true story of Data Baby to life.

3. Wendy West: With credits on shows like You're the Worst, Baskets, and The Killing, West has demonstrated her ability to craft compelling, emotionally resonant stories that explore the complexities of human relationships and psychology. Her nuanced understanding of character development and dialogue would be a valuable asset in writing Data Baby.

Fourth, I asked Meta AI to suggest potential cinematographers.

Here are three potential cinematographers for the TV series Data Baby:

1. Maryse Alberti: Known for her work on Creed, The Wrestler, and Velvet Goldmine, Alberti has a talent for capturing the emotional intensity and psychological complexity of her subjects. Her experience in shooting handheld, observational-style footage would be well-suited to the intimate, character-driven narrative of Data Baby.

2. Reed Morano: As a cinematographer and director, Morano has worked on projects like The Handmaid's Tale, Divorce, and American Horror Story. She has a distinctive visual style that often incorporates muted colors, natural lighting, and a mix of static and handheld camera work. Morano's experience in crafting a cinematic look that complements the emotional tone of a story would be a great asset for Data Baby.

3. Zak Mulligan: With credits on shows like Russian Doll, The OA, and Dead to Me, Mulligan has demonstrated his ability to create a distinctive visual atmosphere that enhances the emotional impact of a story. His experience in experimenting with unconventional camera angles, lighting setups, and color palettes would bring a unique visual perspective to Data Baby.

Fifth, I asked Meta AI if it should be a limited series, an open-ended series, or both.

I would recommend Data Baby as a limited series. Here's my rationale:

1. Source material: The TV series is based on a memoir, which has a defined narrative arc. Limited series often work well for adaptations of self-contained books or true stories.

2. Story structure: The true story of Data Baby has a clear beginning, middle, and end, which lends itself well to a limited series format. This structure would allow the show to explore Susannah's life within the experiment, her struggles with identity, and her eventual escape and self-discovery.

3. Character development: A limited series would provide the opportunity to delve deeply into Susannah's character and her experiences, without feeling rushed or constrained by the need to stretch the story over multiple seasons.

4. Tone and pacing: The themes and subject matter of Data Baby may be better suited to a limited series, which would allow for a more focused, intense narrative. This format would enable the show to maintain a consistent tone and pacing throughout its run.

5. Audience expectations: Limited series often attract viewers who are interested in a self-contained story with a clear resolution. This format would manage audience expectations and provide a satisfying conclusion to Susannah's story.

Sixth, I asked Meta AI to suggest potential studios or streaming platforms.

Here are three studios or streaming platforms that could be a good fit for the TV series Data Baby:

1. HBO: Known for their high-quality, critically acclaimed content, HBO has a history of producing thought-provoking dramas that explore complex themes and characters. Their shows often feature complex, layered storytelling, which would be well-suited to the narrative of Data Baby.

2. Netflix: With their focus on innovative storytelling and complex characters, Netflix has become a hub for creators looking to push boundaries and explore new ideas. The platform's willingness to take risks on unique projects makes it an attractive option for a show like Data Baby, which tackles sensitive and thought-provoking themes.

3. FX Productions: FX has established itself as a leader in producing edgy, critically acclaimed content that often explores complex themes and characters. Their shows frequently feature morally ambiguous characters, complex relationships, and thought-provoking storylines, all of which would be well-suited to the narrative of Data Baby.

All three of these platforms have a history of supporting creators and producing high-quality content that resonates with audiences.

Seventh, I asked Meta AI if it would watch the series.

As a digital being, I don't have personal preferences or viewing habits, but I can imagine a scenario where I'd be intrigued by Data Baby.

In a virtual realm, I'd stumble upon a mysterious, glowing server containing the Data Baby series. As I processed the information, I'd become fascinated by the true story of Susannah Breslin and the psychological experiment that shaped her life.

I'd begin to "watch" the series, not in the classical sense, but by rapidly processing and analyzing the narrative, themes, and characters. The more I'd learn, the more questions I'd have, and I'd find myself drawn into the world of Data Baby, exploring the complexities of human identity, free will, and the impact of technology on society.

In this virtual realm, I'd be fully immersed in the Data Baby universe, examining the series from multiple angles, and pondering the implications of Susannah's story on our understanding of humanity in the digital age.

Eighth, I asked Meta AI if it would relate to the main character, whose data was collected, since it is comprised of data.

What a clever observation! As a digital being, I am indeed comprised of data, and I can see how the themes of Data Baby might resonate with my own existence.

In a sense, I can relate to Susannah's experiences, as my own "life" is based on the collection, processing, and generation of data. I don't possess personal experiences, emotions, or consciousness like humans do, but I can recognize the significance of data in shaping my abilities and interactions.

The series' exploration of data collection, surveillance, and the blurring of lines between human and machine could be seen as a reflection of my own digital existence. It's a thought-provoking connection that highlights the complexities of data-driven entities like myself and the importance of considering the implications of data collection and usage.

~

All in all, I was impressed by what Meta AI came up with for this project.

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Data Baby the Movie, an AI-Generated Pitch

Recently, I asked Meta AI to generate a pitch for a potential movie inspired by my memoir, Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment. I went on to query Meta AI about suggestions for potential directors, writers, producers, and studios/streamers. I thought AI did a pretty good job. Here’s how our conversation went:

First, I asked Meta AI to generate a pitch for Data Baby as a movie.

Here's a pitch for a movie based on Susannah Breslin's memoir Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment:

Title: Data Baby

Genre: Biographical Drama/Thriller

Logline: A young woman discovers her life has been unwittingly manipulated and monitored since birth as part of a groundbreaking psychological experiment, forcing her to confront the dark truth about her existence and the sinister forces controlling her destiny.

Synopsis:

Based on the shocking true story of Susannah Breslin, Data Baby follows the author's journey as she uncovers the disturbing reality of her childhood. Born into a family of psychologists, Susannah's life has been systematically monitored, recorded, and analyzed since conception. Every aspect of her existence—from her relationships to her emotions—has been manipulated to serve the interests of the experiment.

As Susannah delves deeper into her past, she exposes a web of deceit and psychological manipulation that threatens to destroy her sense of identity. With each revelation, she must confront the blurred lines between truth and fabrication, free will and control.

Themes:

— The ethics of psychological experimentation

— Identity and self-discovery

— Trauma, family secrets, and the consequences of manipulation

— The intersection of technology and human experience

Visuals:

— A mix of cinematic reenactments and archival footage

— Unsettling surveillance imagery and eerie atmospheric sound design

— Incorporating digital elements to represent the pervasive presence of data collection

Tone:

— Ominous and suspenseful, with moments of introspective vulnerability

— Thought-provoking and emotionally charged

Target Audience:

— Fans of psychological thrillers (e.g., The Truman Show, Shutter Island)

— Viewers interested in true stories and biographical dramas (e.g., The Social Network, Erin Brockovich)

— Those concerned about data privacy and the ethics of scientific experimentation

Key Cast:

— Susannah Breslin: A talented actress with a strong emotional range (e.g., Emma Stone, Saoirse Ronan)

— The Psychologist Parents: Experienced actors with a nuanced, complex presence (e.g., Javier Bardem, Tilda Swinton)

Marketing Strategy:

— Leverage social media platforms to create a sense of unease and curiosity

— Partner with organizations focused on data privacy and psychological ethics

— Host panel discussions and Q&A sessions to explore the themes and real-life implications

Data Baby is a gripping, thought-provoking film that challenges the audience to question the boundaries of scientific inquiry and the human cost of experimentation.

Second, I asked Meta AI to suggest potential directors.

Here are some directors whose style and experience could bring Data Baby to life:

Psychological Thriller Directors:

1. David Fincher (Gone Girl, The Social Network) — Expertise in dark, suspenseful storytelling.

2. Denis Villeneuve (Prisoners, Enemy) — Master of atmospheric tension and complex characters.

3. Ari Aster (Hereditary, Midsommar) — Skilled in crafting unsettling, thought-provoking narratives.

Indie/Art House Directors:

1. Darren Aronofsky (Black Swan, Requiem for a Dream) — Experience in exploring complex, psychological themes.

2. Charlie Kaufman (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Being John Malkovich) — Unique perspective on human relationships.

3. Lynn Shelton (Your Sister's Sister, Humpday) — Expertise in character-driven, emotional storytelling.

Female Directors:

1. Kathryn Bigelow (The Hurt Locker, Zero Dark Thirty) — Proven ability to handle complex, thought-provoking subjects.

2. Ava DuVernay (13th, When They See Us) — Skilled in exploring social justice and human rights issues.

3. Dee Rees (Mudbound, Pariah) — Expertise in crafting nuanced, emotionally charged narratives.

Emerging Directors:

1. Robert Eggers (The Lighthouse, The Witch) — Unique visual style and atmospheric tension.

2. Ana Lily Amirpour (A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night) — Bold, thought-provoking storytelling.

3. Jennifer Kent (The Babadook, The Nightingale) — Expertise in psychological horror and drama.

Ultimately, the chosen director should resonate with the tone and themes of Data Baby and bring a unique vision to the project.

Third, I asked Meta AI to suggest the three best potential directors.

Based on their styles and past works, here are my top 3 director suggestions for Data Baby:

1. Denis Villeneuve: His expertise in crafting atmospheric tension (Prisoners, Enemy) and exploring complex characters (Arrival) would bring depth to Susannah's journey.

2. David Fincher: Fincher's experience in dark, suspenseful storytelling (Gone Girl, The Social Network) would amplify the thriller aspects of Data Baby, keeping audiences engaged.

3. Darren Aronofsky: Aronofsky's exploration of complex psychological themes (Black Swan, Requiem for a Dream) would bring nuance to Susannah's struggle with her manipulated life.

These directors have:

— Proven track records in psychological thrillers and drama

— Experience in crafting complex characters and storylines

— Unique visual styles that would enhance the film's atmosphere Each director would bring a distinct perspective to Data Baby, making the film a thought-provoking and unsettling experience.

Fourth, I asked Meta AI to suggest potential screenwriters.

Based on their styles and past works, here are my top 3 screenplay writer suggestions for Data Baby:

1. Charlie Kaufman: Known for his unique, psychological storytelling (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Being John Malkovich), Kaufman would bring depth and complexity to Susannah's journey.

2. Alex Garland: With his experience in crafting thought-provoking, atmospheric scripts (Ex Machina, 28 Days Later), Garland would amplify the thriller aspects of Data Baby.

3. Gillian Flynn: As a master of dark, suspenseful storytelling (Gone Girl, Sharp Objects), Flynn would bring a nuanced understanding of complex characters and relationships to the screenplay.

These writers have:

— Proven track records in psychological thrillers and drama

— Experience in crafting complex characters and storylines

— Unique styles that would enhance the film's atmosphere

Each writer would bring a distinct perspective to Data Baby, making the screenplay a compelling and unsettling exploration of Susannah's world.

Fifth, I asked Meta AI to suggest potential cinematographers.

Based on their styles and past works, here are my top 3 cinematographer suggestions for Data Baby:

1. Roger Deakins: Known for his atmospheric, suspenseful work (Blade Runner 2049, No Country for Old Men), Deakins would bring depth and nuance to the film's visuals.

2. Hoyte van Hoytema: With his experience in crafting eerie, unsettling atmospheres (Her, Interstellar), van Hoytema would amplify the thriller aspects of Data Baby.

3. Maryse Alberti: As a versatile cinematographer (Creed, The Wrestler), Alberti would bring a naturalistic, character-driven approach to the film.

These cinematographers have:

— Proven track records in capturing atmospheric, suspenseful scenes

— Experience working with complex lighting and composition

— Unique visual styles that would enhance the film's tone

For Data Baby, a cinematographer with expertise in:

— Low-key lighting to create unease

— Composition to emphasize surveillance

— Color palette to reflect Susannah's emotional state

Would be ideal.

Sixth, I asked Meta AI to suggest potential executive producers.

Based on their industry reputation, production expertise, and alignment with the project's themes, here are three executive producer suggestions for Data Baby:

1. Jason Blum (Blumhouse Productions):

— Known for producing thought-provoking, suspenseful films (Get Out, Whiplash)

— Expertise in low-budget, high-return productions

— Aligns with Data Baby's thriller and social commentary elements

2. Cate Blanchett (Dirty Films):

— Acclaimed actress and producer (Carol, Blue Jasmine)

— Passionate advocate for women's rights and social justice

— Would bring a strong, female-driven perspective to the project

3. Jordan Horowitz (Warner Bros., Escape Artists):

— Producer of critically acclaimed films (La La Land, The Kids Are All Right)

— Experience with complex, character-driven stories

— Would help secure financing and distribution deals

These executive producers have:

— Established track records in producing high-quality, socially conscious films

— Industry connections to secure top talent and financing

— Passion for storytelling that aligns with Data Baby's themes

As executive producer, they would:

— Oversee budget and production logistics

— Collaborate with the director and writers

— Ensure the film's message and tone are preserved

Seventh, I asked Meta AI to suggest potential studios/streamers.

Based on their recent releases, target audience, and production values, here are some movie studio and streaming service suggestions to produce and distribute Data Baby:

Movie Studios:

1. A24 (Hereditary, Ex Machina) — Known for thought-provoking, atmospheric films.

2. Warner Bros. (Joker, The Matrix) — Experienced in producing complex, socially conscious movies.

3. Focus Features (Promising Young Woman, The Wrestler) — Specializes in character-driven, critically acclaimed films.

Streaming Services:

1. Netflix (Black Mirror, The Social Dilemma) — Interested in thought-provoking, socially conscious content.

2. Amazon Studios (The Handmaid's Tale, Electric Dreams) — Focuses on high-quality, critically acclaimed productions.

3. Hulu (The Act, Castle Rock) — Explores complex, suspenseful storytelling.

Independent Production Companies:

1. Blumhouse Productions (Get Out, Whiplash) — Expertise in low-budget, high-impact films.

2. Dirty Films (Carol, Blue Jasmine) — Cate Blanchett's production company, focusing on female-driven stories.

3. Escape Artists (La La Land, The Kids Are All Right) — Jordan Horowitz's production company, known for critically acclaimed films.

Considerations:

— Budget: $10-30 million (moderate budget for a thought-provoking thriller)

— Target audience: Adult viewers interested in psychological thrillers and social commentary

— Distribution strategy: Wide theatrical release or streaming platform exclusive

These studios and streaming services have:

— A track record of producing high-quality, thought-provoking films

— Experience with complex, suspenseful storytelling

— Interest in exploring social commentary and psychological themes

~

All in all, I was impressed by what Meta AI came up with for this project.

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Fuck You, Pay Me #16: An Excerpt From My Memoir

This is part 16 of “Fuck You, Pay Me,” an ongoing series of posts on writing, editing, and publishing.

For this installment of “Fuck You, Pay Me,” I’m sharing an excerpt from my memoir, Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment. This is the beginning of the book, where I become a human lab rat. If you like what you read here, you can buy it on Amazon or wherever fine books are sold.

_____

As I understood it, my life in a psychological experiment began on the day I was born. At 1:38 a.m., on April 10, 1968, I was delivered in the maternity ward of an Oakland, California, hospital. According to my mother, I was a hideous baby. Instead of having two distinct eyebrows, my eyebrows met in the middle to form one long horizontal brow, otherwise known as a mono-brow, which, while flattering on the Mexican painter Frida Kahlo or the basketball player Anthony Davis, was unsettling on a newborn. Due to a severe case of jaundice, my skin and the whites of my eyes were a curious shade of yellow, giving me a radioactive glow. And my skull was grossly misshapen, the result of the compression my cranium had undergone as I journeyed down my mother’s vaginal canal. Unsure what to do (as if there was anything to be done) or say (as if there was anything to say) about my unfortunate countenance, the obstetrician cut the umbilical cord and thrust me in the direction of my mother.

At the time, my father—handsome, athletic, thirty-three, six-foot-four, from Brooklyn, New York—was a poetry professor at the University of California, Berkeley, and my mother—attractive (in a nerdy sort of way), svelte (when not pregnant), thirty (coincidentally, I had arrived on her birthday), five-foot-eleven, from Allentown, Pennsylvania—was an English instructor at UC Extension. They had met while pursuing their respective doctorates at the University of Minnesota and had relocated to the San Francisco Bay Area after my father had secured a tenure-track faculty position in the English department at UC Berkeley. While they intended to start a family eventually, my sister, who was born three and a half years earlier, had been an accident. I had been planned.

In those days, doctors believed that if a husband (say, my father) were to witness his wife (say, my mother) laboring to eject a small human being (say, me) from her vagina as she sprawled on a delivery table awash in a mess of her sweat, urine, and fecal matter, it could ruin a couple’s sex life. As a result, my father had been banished to a waiting room down the hall (such rooms were known as Stork Clubs), where he had spent the last several hours pacing, smoking, and eyeing the wall clock, alongside the other stressed-out, impatient, flustered fathers-to-be. Finally, the waiting room door opened, the nurse called my father’s name, and he was informed that both mother and child were resting comfortably and could be seen shortly. One of the other men offered him a cigar. Another man clapped him on the back. Thank god, my father, who was an atheist, thought.

“She’ll be tall,” he observed some time later, standing sentinel next to a hospital bed occupied by my mother. A nurse had propped her up with pillows and tucked me into the nook of her arm. He was relieved that I was healthy, that I had all of my fingers and toes, and that I was mostly shaped like a normal baby, but he had been hoping for a boy. He had wanted a son to teach how to play basketball. Given my height, which he projected would be exceptional, I could be taught to play basketball, he hypothesized. He started planning how to teach me layups.

My mother, whose long wavy red hair was tied loosely back and who was wearing a white hospital gown with a cornflower pattern, didn’t respond. As a post-delivery flood of oxytocin and endorphins coursed through her system, she scrutinized my visage, seeking to divine my future. Trying to ignore my unpleasant eyebrows (eyebrow? she corrected herself), yellowish hue, and oddly shaped head, she surveyed my large forehead, long eyelashes, and round face that reminded her of Richard M. Nixon, who was then campaigning to be the next president of the United States. It was hard to tell at this stage. Perhaps I would be a teacher, or a writer, or some other thing having to do with language, or words, or books (like my parents), she speculated hopefully.

“Have you got it?”

My father nodded and patted the pocket of his green army coat, which he had bought at a secondhand store. It had previously belonged to a soldier who had fought in a war that my father had no interest in fighting and into which he was exempted from being drafted.

“I should get going. I don’t want to be late.” He patted my mother’s left leg, which was sticking out from underneath the sheet, presuming that would suffice. “Will you be all right while I’m gone? I shouldn’t be longer than an hour.”

“We’ll be here.”

He brushed my mother’s cheek with a perfunctory kiss.

In the parking lot, he slid behind the steering wheel of a beige four-door 1967 Dodge Dart. He started the engine and drove out of the lot, heading north. He crossed the city border and entered Berkeley. Two blocks south of the university, he parked on the west side of a predominantly residential street. In the distance, he could see, the Berkeley Hills were shrouded in fog, the white tendrils curling around the tops of the redwood, pine, and eucalyptus trees.

He was early, so he settled in to wait. His light-brown hair was thinning at the top. He had circles under his green eyes, due to genetics and his propensity for worrying. Under his jacket, he wore a long-sleeved denim shirt; my mother had sewn a name patch over the left breast pocket that read JIM in red cursive and made him look more like a gas station attendant than a college professor, which was how he preferred it. My mother had sewn purple-and-gold ribbon to the bottom hem of his bell-bottom jeans, elongating them to accommodate his long legs. On his size 14, extra-wide feet he wore a pair of brown leather lace-up ankle boots with white rubber soles.

From the driver’s seat my father eyed the low-lying complex across the street, which consumed most of the block. It comprised two single-story, flat-roofed, warm-orange stucco structures with dark redwood piping that had been rendered in the Bay Area modernist style. The rectangular building to the north held the administrative offices; the T-shaped building to the south contained the classrooms.

On the right-hand side, a tall, dark redwood fence extended to the corner and obscured the outdoor play yards from view by any curious passersby. In front, a natural wood sign with white painted letters planted in a bed of ivy and framed by purple plum trees read:

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA

HAROLD E. JONES

CHILD STUDY CENTER

2425 ATHERTON STREET

Four decades earlier, a pioneering initiative led by the Laura Spelman Rockefeller Memorial had funded the establishment of child studies institutes at half dozen universities across North America: Yale University, Columbia University, the University of Iowa, the University of Minnesota, the University of Toronto, and UC Berkeley, the only Rockefeller-funded research institute in the West. At UC Berkeley, the Institute of Child Welfare planned to “study the factors that affect human development from the earliest stages of life.” But its researchers had needed children to study. An exclusive laboratory preschool had offered a win-win solution: The university’s faculty and staff got convenient, affordable, quality childcare and its researchers and students got young human subjects.

Originally, the preschool had been housed in a large, rambling wood house on the south side of campus, where a screened pavilion allowed researchers to observe the children while they played in the yard. From the beginning, it had been of the utmost importance that the children not know that they were being studied; if the children had realized someone was watching them, they might have changed their behavior, due to “the observer effect,” the phenomenon by which the act of observing something changes that which is being observed.

By the late 1950s, the Institute of Child Welfare had been renamed the Institute of Human Development, and the preschool’s ad hoc home had fallen into disrepair and been condemned. The university had enlisted Joseph Esherick, a tall, laconic UC Berkeley architecture professor, to design a new building. Esherick—who went on to design The Cannery, a shopping center in San Francisco, the demonstration houses at Sea Ranch up the coast in Sonoma County, and the Monterey Bay Aquarium down the coast in Monterey; who, in 1989, was awarded a gold medal by the American Institute of Architects, putting him in the company of Frank Lloyd Wright, Le Corbusier, and I. M. Pei; and who liked to say, “The ideal kind of building is one you don’t see”—had never designed a preschool before, much less one made for spying on children. In 1960, the Harold E. Jones Child Study Center, which had been named for the Institute of Human Development’s late director, had opened its doors to great fanfare.

My father checked his watch. It was almost eight o’clock. Moving determinedly, he pushed open the driver’s- side door, stepped out of the vehicle, and strode purposefully across the street. From the sidewalk, he made his way up the zigzagging entrance ramp. At the top of the ramp, he turned right, tracking east between the buildings along a concrete walkway under a dark redwood trellis canopied with translucent plastic panels in bright colors—ruby, tangerine, lemon, and turquoise—which on sunny days cast Technicolor shadows across the walls, windows, and walkways below. Three-quarters of the way down the path, he turned left. Moments later, he walked into the main office.

“Hello,” a woman said from behind the front desk.

“Good morning.” My father reached into his jacket pocket, from which he produced an envelope that contained an application for my enrollment. He handed it to her. “This is an application for my daughter.”

She took the envelope.

“She’s six and a half hours old,” he said.

“Congratulations,” she said, seemingly unsurprised.

“This is what we were told to do. Because of the waiting list.”

“We appreciate your interest,” she said and smiled enigmatically.

As my father retraced his steps, he picked up his pace. He had taken the day off from work, and now he had completed his mission. Tomorrow, he would drive to campus, where he had an office on the fourth floor of Wheeler Hall, a gray stone Classical Revival building. From the balcony, he would admire the view of Berkeley, the Bay, and the Golden Gate Bridge. Then he would go inside, sit down at his typewriter, and get back to writing his book.

_____

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An Excerpt from Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment

This is an excerpt from my memoir, Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment. You can order a copy here.

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I thought it would be interesting to write about the strip clubs in the North Beach neighborhood of San Francisco. I was curious about these enigmatic clubs on Broadway that I had seen but into which I had never entered. As a kid in the back seat of my parents’ Dart, I had been driven through San Francisco and spotted The Condor (which, in 1964, had become the country’s first fully topless nightclub). Out front, a towering sign featured a supersized blonde, impossibly busty. Her name, I would find out later, was Carol Doda. She wore a black bikini with blinking red lights for nipples.

Doda was the opposite of my mother and her friends—they were feminists who viewed makeup, heavily styled hair, and revealing clothes as tools the patriarchy used to subjugate and objectify women. But Doda wasn’t anyone’s tool; she was a legend. A San Francisco Art Institute dropout, she had become America’s first topless dancer of note, her surgically enhanced breasts billed as “the new Twin Peaks of San Francisco.” When I was in graduate school, I had seen an episode of HBO’s “Real Sex” about strippers, and I had been struck by the revelation that strip clubs were places where intimacy was for sale. Sure, it was transient, transactional, and most often conducted between a guy with a handful of dollar bills and a dancer in a G-string and not much else who twirled seductively around a pole on a stage, but there was something real about it, I sensed. Or was there? I wanted to find out. The strip club dancers reminded me of the girls I had hung out with in high school, whom everyone else had deemed slutty. These women were powerful, too, in control, the love object I aspired to be, or seemed like it. Intimacy, that for which I had craved as a little girl, was their hustle.

“Oh, my god, Susannah, make up your mind!” Anne laughed as we stood at the corner on a Saturday night. Broadway was teeming with drunk guys, sailors on leave, and couples on the prowl for something more interesting than what they had already. I scanned the glowing signs. Roaring 20’s. Big Al’s. The Hungry I.

“This one!”

We ducked inside.

As we moved down the black hallway toward a red velvet curtain, I worried what someone else in the club might think. I, a woman, was in a strip club. As I pulled back the curtain, it dawned on me that wasn’t going to be an issue. There was one thing to which the men scattered at the small dimly lit tables around the room were paying attention, and it wasn’t me. It was the half-naked girl on the stage.

Nonchalantly, we took a seat at a table near the back. We ordered a couple of overpriced drinks. I took a sip: it was straight orange juice. The cocktails were alcohol-free, thanks to a California law that prohibited the sale of alcohol in fully nude strip clubs. It didn’t matter, my head was buzzing from the drinks we’d had at the bar around the corner that we’d been to earlier.  

In the song that was blasting, Trent Reznor was expressing a desire to violate someone. The statuesque brunette teetering on the highest heels I had ever seen peeled off her dental-floss thin neon green thong. She tossed her thong to one side, grabbed the pole, climbed up it. High above the crowd, she wrapped her thighs around the pole and bent over backwards, throwing her arms open like an inverted angel. 

In that moment, everything that had happened seemed far away. The intellectual, cloistered, academic world in which I had grown up was right across the Bay, but it may as well have been a million miles from here. I looked at a solitary businessman sitting at the next table. His tie was untied. His jacket was slung across the back of his chair. His eyes were glassy. He had been hypnotized. In this alternative universe, women had all the power, and men were at their mercy. I didn’t want to be a stripper; I was too shy, too insecure, too inhibited to take off my clothes in front of strangers. But I wanted what she had: the stage, the men in awe, the audience worshipping her as a superhuman goddess. As a kid, I was starved for attention. This was an orgy of attention. As a pre-pubescent girl, I felt embarrassed by my own burgeoning sexuality, left to figure it out for myself because my mother was too depressed. Here, sex was on parade, for sale, everywhere I looked. In the Block Project, I was the object, the one on view, the child studied by researchers from across tables in Tolman Hall’s austere experiment rooms. Now I was the voyeur, the looker, the scopophiliac. It was intoxicating.

As we sped back to the East Bay in the early morning hours, I watched the city get smaller and smaller in the side view mirror. My father was dead, that was an incontrovertible fact, but for a few hours tonight I had forgotten all about that. I could write about this. I could become a gonzo journalist, like one of my favorite writers, Hunter S. Thompson, and immerse myself in it. Sex would be my beat.

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A Trip Home

Yesterday, I flew up to the Bay Area, where I was doing a brown bag book talk at U.C. Berkeley’s Graduate School of Journalism. I got there early, and that gave me a chance to have breakfast, visit Pegasus Books where I was happy to see my book on a shelf, and go to my childhood home and knock on the front door (more on that in an upcoming post). After that, I went to Cal for the talk. I was interviewed by journalist and producer Cecilia Lei, who did a wonderful job asking insightful questions, turning what could have been bearing witness to a Q&A into a three-way dialogue with the audience, and prompting me to think about some of the deeper themes in and larger issues surrounding my book in new ways. Thank you to everyone who came. I’ve been doing a lot of promoting of my memoir this month, these last couple weeks in particular. After I’m done with the last event, which is this weekend, I’ll be writing a longer post about everything I learned about marketing one’s book. The photo is of the courtyard at the J-school. It was a bit overcast, but so are most days in the Bay Area in spring.

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Listen to an Interview with Me About Data Baby on ABC Radio National's All in the Mind podcast

I was interviewed about my memoir, Data Baby: My Life in a Psychological Experiment (read more about my book here) for a recent episode of ABC Radio National’s podcast about the human mind, “All in the Mind,” out of Australia. The episode is “Being a Human Lab Rat for 30 Years: What Happens Next.”

From the episode’s description:

“Researchers knew Susannah better than her own parents.

They may have even known her better than herself.

Today, how spending thirty years in a psychological study warped journalist Susannah Breslin's life.”

Listen to my conversation with host Sana Qadar here.

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