New. York. Times.

That’s all I have to say.

No, I guess I have a bit more to say.

Last week I was whining about being a writer. This week I can hardly keep my feet on the ground. Tom says that at least I keep his life interesting.

I wrote an essay about giving birth to Lucy in Djibouti, an American baby born in a Muslim country on the fourth anniversary of the September 11 attacks. I submitted it to the Modern Love column of the New York Times and am ecstatic to say that it will be published in 2-3 weeks.


This article blew my mind, about the ‘career-launching’ potential of being published in the Modern Love column. It is a bit old and some of the information is inaccurate, but I was strangely tingly while reading it. I feel delighted and humbled. And like I wrote on Monday, in No Thanks to You, I know exactly Who to thank, both for the publishing credential and for the lovely life of Lucy Deeqsan.

The first essay I ever published was about my relationship with Maggie, My Little Garbage Collector. Later, while writing for Running Times, I wrote about running with Henry. Now, I guess it is Lucy’s turn.

I’ll be sure, of course, to let you know when the essay is printed.

(yeah, she got a little more air than I did)