It was a year.
Burnout is real; usually I just ride through the cycle until it passes. But in January this year, after seven years of working at the same job, I finally realized I needed a break. A big one. So in March I quit and pretty much just went hiking, with the occasional freelance pieces here and there. Start putting away money now and in seven years, you too can fuck off to the wilderness for… well, what ended up being about six months.
The best parts of this year were spent in our national parks, forests and seashores. I wrote about it a little. Mostly I did the more important thing: I enjoyed it.
Violent mating on the beach in the fog: This is Point Reyes
Adventuring alone in the bat caves of Pinnacles National Park
Up and down the devil’s mountain
Mount Tamalpais and the wildflowers of Persephone
I also spent some time backpacking in Denali; I camped among redwoods in Mendocino; I went to the lowest point in North America, and then up a mountain (of course) in Death Valley. For a lady who professes not to like mountains, I do seem to spend an awful lot of time climbing them.
Anyhow I eventually got a job again, as a science editor at The Verge. I was nervous about it because I’d never edited before. It turns out I like editing; I hope I am good at it. Here are a few favorites that I had the luck to edit:
This video game might be the future of ADHD and Alzheimer’s treatment
The kindest cut: my journey into the nether regions of male birth control
A real stand against antibiotic resistance starts at the farm, not the hospital
How NASA harnessed sunlight to revive its planet-hunting telescope
How did Orion withstand temperatures twice the melting point of steel?
The Ebola outbreak was political — just like every disease outbreak
Mostly when I write, it’s breaking science news and study stories; no one better is faster and no one faster is better (apologies to Mr. Liebling). This year, though, I had the luck to spend several months doing whatever the hell I wanted. So I pestered biologists into letting me go tidepooling with them. And I was able to come up with this thing, the product of eight months of reporting: In search of the starfish killer. It’s probably the most ambitious nonfiction writing I’ve done to date.
I love breaking news; I start to kick in the stall if I haven’t published lately. But it’s good to slow down sometimes. It’s really good to go outside. I hope I do those things next year, too.
