Aliya S. King

Well.

I have so many things to write about that I feel paralyzed. So this week could be about ANYTHING. Or absolutely nothing. Or everything.

A friend lost her battle with cancer this week. I’m saddened. And yet, buoyed by her strength.

Recently met this 16 year old kid who is trying to get on in the bizness. And I’m fascinated by him.

Had a GREAT meeting with my agent this morning. I’m brimming with new ideas.

TweetChat is tonight! 8PM. Be there!

Wednesday, I’m working out of the Astor Place Starbucks from 10-3. Be there too.

I feel full and alive today.

Even plucked a guest blogger out of obscurity. Check it out.

Dear readers: Do you ever feel like you have so much to say, or maybe so little, that you just don’t know where to begin? Will you be on Twitter tonight? Will you come to Starbucks on Wednesday?

I’d love to hear from you!

Me on my first birthday. With my dad, Robert E. King. And My great-grandmother Mozell Crawford.

When I was starting my first day of school, my dad kneeled down to my level for a pep talk. I had a lump in my throat. I was clutching my chocolate brown satchel tightly. It was a new school. A new grade. And I would be the youngest in the class. We both peeked into the classroom. Everyone was so tall. It could’ve been a lecture on quantum physics as far as I was concerned.

“You’ll be fine,” my dad said.

I nodded. I got up on tip-top to peer inside the glass door once more and my stomach did a flip flop.

“Just remember what I told you about your antennae. They’re right here,” he said, pointing to the top of my head, right where my tight ponytails were fastened.

“You see something that don’t seem right, your antennae will let you know. Now you can’t see ’em. But they’re in there. And they’ll never steer you wrong. Do your best.”

And with that, I was off. 1979. First grade. Columbian Elementary. My dad’s words rang in my head for years.

It’s the single most important bit of advice I’ve received from Robert E. King. And throughout my life, there have been many times when my invisible antennae were gesturing wildly: that dude ain’t no good. this magazine is not worth the trouble. this apartment is too good to be true. this chick is trying to play you out.

I haven’t always listened, of course. But I know it’s there. And I’m grateful my dad broke it down in a way a four year old could understand.

A tribute to dads. Near and far. For their love, understanding and wisdom.

(more…)

Do you work from home? Need a change of scene?

Do you work in NYC? Wanna take a coffee break and say hello?

Would you like a quick word of professional advice about journalism?

Want a quick Twitter tutorial?

Well, let’s go!

On Wednesday, June 24th, I’ll be working out of the Astor Place Starbucks in downtown NYC.

I hear this is the biggest Starbucks in the city. (Truth be told, I’d rather go to a mom-and-pop shop. But I spent two hours online and couldn’t find details on enough places. Do they have wi-fi? Outlets? Someone needs to write a definitive guide to where to freelance in NYC.)

So Starbucks it is.

If you work in the city, stop by on your lunch break and say hello!

If you work from home, bring that laptop! I’ll save an outlet for you.

I’ll be in the house from 10 to 3.

dear readers: Are you a hermit crab like me? Do you have to occasionally force yourself to break the monotony of your routine? Are you going to come by and say hello for our first Humpday Hangout? Does anyone know where the next Humpday Hangout can be held? Someplace cozy with wifi and plenty of outlets?

I’d love to hear from you…