What is your process like when you work on a piece for the New Yorker?

About 40% procrastination, 40% trying to figure out the beginning and the end, 10% wondering if back/wrist pain will just be with me the rest of my life, 7% awake at 4 am wishing I could be more productive during daytime, 3% imagining how sweet life will be once I've filed.

Any big summer plans?

A lot of alternate side parking.

What can people expect from your reading?

It might be a bit sad.