to say "I'm a writer," because the term connotes snooty people
wearing black turtlenecks and sipping lattes while making profound comments
about the state of the universe. But I own a black turtleneck, I keep a journal, and I love coffee.
So I guess I'm trying.
It all started in fourth grade, when Mrs. Fishman, an English teacher I continue
to villify, gave me a B- and said I couldn't put my thoughts down on paper
coherently. I was devasted, and to exact revenge, I have spent the intervening decades
trying to prove her wrong. I edited my high school newspaper and then my college
newspaper. I got an internship as a metro reporter at The Washington Post, and
then I worked at The New York Times. As a producer for their electronic
media company, not a reporter. Details.
I still can't put words down on
paper coherently, but fortunately, computer technology has come a long way
since 1983, when I was programming an Apple II+ in basic. So I type words on a
screen, somewhat coherently. Samples follow.
Medical School Musings
Articles appearing in The New York Times on the Web
Chicago Clinic Buoys Women with HIV
October 19, 1998
Collectors of Early Arcade Games
Move Parts and Passions Online
October 2, 1997
The Infinitely Patient Computer Teaches Problem Students to Read
September 26, 1996
'Internet Alley' Brings Convention to the Web
August 15, 1996
The Struggle to Teach Virtual Ethics
April 24, 1996
Why Johnny Can't Tell Copyright From Wrong
April 24, 1996
New Media columns appearing in CyberTimes
Lifeboats of Content in a Sea of Neon and Glitz
July 3, 1996
I Link, Therefore I Am (Seeking Hypertext's Meaning)
May 4, 1996
Essays & Stuff
The dreaded "Personal Statement" for residency applications...
Cheerios, or Why I Want to Be a Doctor
... and the dreaded "Personal Statement" for Medical School.
Musings on life,
The Journey Continues
From The Chronicle's Op-Ed
March 31, 1999
As I jumped on the Duke women's hoops bandwagon last Monday night, screaming and cheering for Nicole Erickson, Michele VanGorp and Georgia Schweitzer, I couldn't help wondering what it would have been like to be a 10-year-old girl watching them in March of 1999.
All I really need to know
I learned at The Chronicle
May 24, 1995
By my sophomore year at Duke, I
was calling for transfer applications. The Chronicle is the only thing that
kept me there.
There's more to life than a
New York Times obituary
February 6, 1995
think I would have cared about getting eliminated from the Rhodes Scholarship
competition if I had known that was the last day I'd see Nic Benjamin
Highlighters should shoulder at least as much of the blame as
MTV for Generation X's short attention span and anti-intellectual leanings.
Neither existential thought nor Marxist rhetoric can fit within the confines
of a fluorescent-ink universe.
For more from The Chronicle, search the archives for a comprehensive listing of what I wrote for
the paper in college.