In November of 2010, I was tapped on the shoulder and told that a bold new experiment in journalism was in the works. Some impressive folks with deep pockets and brass balls were building a first-of-its-kind daily national news publication that would be available exclusively on the iPad.
They said they were looking for fresh voices and unique perspectives, and I was definitely as fresh as they come — damn near raw. At the time, I had an online advice column with a dedicated following who appreciated my unfiltered style. I cursed like a sailor and gave scathing advice, but I also laid down brutal truth about life, love, and the human condition.
My edges were rough, but the editors at The Daily gave me a short list of four-letter words I couldn’t use and picked me as their advice columnist. It was a gutsy choice, and I respected them for it. Exactly two years ago today, I turned in my first round of columns, and since then, I’ve answered hundreds of your questions on everything from wedding etiquette to existential crisis management.
Writing for The Daily has been a once-in-a-lifetime experience. That’s not hyperbole. I got to speak to a vast new audience. I got to read thousands of letters from people all over the world. I got to learn from brilliant and talented professionals, and I’m proud of the work we’ve all done along the way.
Dream jobs don’t just manifest themselves out of thin air, but this one did, and I was lucky enough to write for a groundbreaking publication from its inaugural issue to its farewell. Now, as The Daily goes the way of all good things, I’m just happy to have been a part of it.
Thank you all so much for reading. It’s been a blast.
Yours in gratitude,
P.S. To those of you who wrote in these past few days asking what will become of me, don’t worry. My advice and pop culture columns will find a new home soon enough. In the meantime, you can keep up with my latest work at dearcoquette.com and thecoquette.net.
Attenuation is the gradual loss in intensity of any kind of flux through a medium.
Los Angeles is a study in attenuation.
The sunset is attenuated as it pierces through the rush hour smog. Your cell phone signal is attenuated as it bounces up and through the canyons. Dreams are attenuated as they grind through the celebrity machine.
The process of attenuation is this city’s preferred method of chaos, because it is a delicate rhythm of scattering and absorption. Of all the flavors of entropy, attenuation renders the most graceful patterns of annihilation.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but when publishers start throwing around Hillary Clinton money for a book proposal by a “rare literary talent,” I certainly expect more than this.
It’s not funny. It’s not insightful. It’s not the least bit entertaining. It’s just a tepid exercise in neurotic navel gazing by a privileged white girl from New York who just happens to have her own show on HBO.
That’s fine, I suppose. The folks at Random House can squander their millions however they see fit, and kudos to Lena for cashing in on her Woody Allen meets Candace Bushnell schtick.
Still, in a book that purports to be about advice, you’d think the voice of a generation might have something to say about the world that exists beyond the end of her nose.
Then again, maybe not, and maybe that’s the larger point about a generation.