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In this issue of Emptying The Notebook: I explain my why, address the maddening insults about Black voters, and let you in on a very complicated mourning process. Plus: 3 Things I Love and 3 Things I Hate.
Sis, Whatchu Doin’?
As much as I’m known for being a TV talking head, it’s the writing that keeps me pulling me back … me back… word to Chingy (yeah that was corny and I promise that will be the only Chingy reference I’ll ever make in this newletter… hopefully).
But seriously, writing is my first love. And while running my mouth on television has been great for my expanding my reach, building my profile and making me — and I truly hate this word — a celebrity, writing is my foundation. Writing has always held me down. It’s been my safety net and my safe haven.
As I wrote in my memoir, Uphill, I started writing largely as a trauma response. My mother was in the throes of a terrible drug addiction and I often turned to my journal to vent my rage, frustrations, and express feelings that I couldn’t begin to say out loud. That journaling translated into me writing short stories, mini-novels, and eventually, it led me to journalism.
At this time in my career, I’m actually at a disorienting crossroads (more on that in future newsletters) and in times of turmoil, I return to my safety net — writing. Yes, I already write for The Atlantic. But as I’m wrestling with where I fit in this industry and trying to map out how to navigate a volatile, ever-changing business, I was led to this. I needed a safe space to sort this world out. Because the journalism I fell in love with, the journalism that served as a source of inspiration and pride for me during the last three decades, is now something I don’t even recognize.
And while I have my own selfish motivations, I also wanted to create a place and community where people don’t feel like they’re losing their minds. Many of us are seeing the same injustices, atrocities, hypocrisies, and we’re often left to feel as if those things aren’t an alarming reality. At the same time, we’re also experiencing joy, laughter, and other good things that probably aren’t taking up as much space in our lives as we would like. I’m going to be writing about both ends of the spectrum.
Emptying the Notebook is a common phrase in my journalism. For all the things that journalists write and talk about, there are plenty of things we don’t get to include. Even though I’m on several different platforms, believe it or not, I still have more to say and share.
And I intend to do that here.
Question of the Week: Should I watch Euphoria?
The hit HBO series officially ended Sunday after seven years. Note: Seven years, not seven seasons. In fact, it just had three seasons and 26 episodes during the seven-year span. I’ll admit, the early descriptions of the show made me reluctant to watch it. It just didn’t seem like my vibe. But naturally, now that it’s ended, I’m curious and am thinking about watching it. Also, true story related to Euphoria: I was walking around my Los Angeles neighborhood and noticed a bunch of cameras and a production truck setup at this Ethopian church that is on my normal walking route. It is not unusual to see productions across LA, and they tend to shoot a lot in the area of the city I’m in. Just as I was about to cross the driveway for the church parking lot, I noticed a young, somewhat grungy-looking, but extremely attractive woman standing alongside the metal gate that surrounds the church parking lot. As I got closer, I realized: Oh shit, it’s Zendaya. Apparently, they were filming some of the last season of Euphoria there. By the way, Zendaya was friendly. I think she could tell that I recognized her and she said hello and asked how I was doing. And no, I do not think she recognized me at all. By the way, that’s probably no. 2 on my list of most, random Hollywood encounters I’ve had. In another issue of this newsletter, I’ll share that time I went to a cycling class and ran into Jay-Z and Beyonce.
But my main question is: Should I start Euphoria? Shoot me an email and let me know why or why not.




