Same old new stuff

wow and hello and welcome to my freshly swept corner of the internet. I’m Olive, in case you didn’t know, a recent Wesleyan Grad and New York City native. 

I’ve been thinking about the written word for a while. I started way back in the early aughts by writing in composition notebooks, filling one each year with scribbles and stickers and half-formed ideas. Since then there have been book reports and essays, cover letters, poems, capstones, and plays. Some of you know that I’m currently working in the book world as an assistant scout, reading manuscripts and proposals before they go out to the public. An even smaller few of you know that I’ve been keeping a sporadic and under the radar blog going since 2013. The idea then was to use the internet as a way to maintain the practice of writing, and I sometimes did so.

The idea now isn’t so different but I probably won’t write things like “LEONARDO DI CAPRIO IS GOING TO BE THE BEST JAY GATSBY EVER” without any other commentary. 


I’m also hoping this time to be more committed: I want to use this little website to practice writing like I use my yoga mat to practice yoga. Except for this time I am more formally sharing it. Like if I did yoga in front of all my friends and asked them to watch. You get me? I hope you do. 

Here’s what you can expect: 

  1. thoughts and reflections on things that I’m up to in NYC

  2. Book reviews

  3. The good, the bad, and the ugly of my writing drafts

  4. Informal announcements and apologies

  5. Pictures

  6. My secret Earl Grey cake recipe (if you’re very very lucky)

If you’re into that, maybeee subscribe at the bottom of the page below. I’m planning a monthly letter to keep you up to date, and (of course) to keep you coming back for more.

Mostly I want to say thanks for tuning in.

I would love any thoughts or comments you have about the stuff that appears in this space—shoot me an email (wexlerolive@gmail.com) or a text.

hope you’re all comfy, happy, and healthy, or at least trying to be.

Talk to you spoon.

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Figs and Skin: The Song of Achilles

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Aubade for my old lovers