I remember the day Evan and I packed up our books. We were recently married, moving to the New York City suburbs, and in the middle of a purge-induced adrenaline rush. We parted ways with dollar store kitchen utensils, tossed all 90s fashion, and left our yellowed white couch on the sidewalk for bulk trash.
As of September 1, we’re dedicating this space to micro fiction, short stories and book excerpts. All of the old blog posts including The Paris Color Project and Paris photos are archived here. Thanks for coming along for the ride so far. We have many new stories and books planned for 2014 and 2015 and
Many of you wrote to ask about picking up print copies of The Paris Journal locally, and we just shipped the first round to our stockists. We’re honored that the following fine bookstores and retailers have added The Paris Journal to their shops. Check our stockists page for a full list of retailers who carry
It’s July, and we’re going to Paris. By we, I mean a group of fellow writers. And you, of course if you want to come along for the ride. Paris in July – a month long celebration of Paris – is in its fifth year, and the co-hosts Karen, Tamara, Vicki, Bellezza and Adria have
Thanks to late spring rains, the grass was bright and lush. Perfect for kicking back.
Back at Café Saint-Régis, the eight chairs and four tables are filling up now. Customers settle in as the wait staff picks up the tempo. The two waiters rush back and forth, in and out of the doors, greeting each guest and passing out menus. Just above the flurry of activity, an apartment window over
You know that moment when you discover your crush likes the same band as you? The same ice cream flavor? The same precocious, irreverent 19th century boy-poet? You know, the little things. On our second date, midway through a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream, Evan and I bonded over a mutual affinity for
Today’s a big day. Tax day. Hopefully you’re on the good end of that stick. It’s also a good day here at Obvious State. We just sent our mailing list subscribers the first three chapters of The Paris Journal, Book One. We’re pretty certain it’s a lot more fun than W2s and 1099s. If you
“Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” – Lewis Carroll.
People in Paris lounge, and they lounge well. They remove shoes and socks, shed cares and settle in. In New York, people often have one foot off the grass and back in the office. That momentary respite on a bench in Bryant Park or on a blanket in Central Park feels temporary – phones remain
Yesterday, my friend Amy and I battled blinding wind and rain on our way to La Cuisine Paris for a macaron class. Our umbrellas were all but useless, even when positioned as a shield. By the time we arrived at 80 Quai de l’Hôtel de Ville, I could no longer see out of my glasses,
Unlike New York and the internet, Paris sleeps. And because I’m often jet-lagged and up all night when I’m there, I get to experience the city when it’s dark and quiet. I appreciate the silence and shadows, and those late nights are a cherished respite. A respite from the instagram-ification of everything. From staged shots
Cemeteries by their nature aren’t happy places, but I’m always happy to visit the them in Paris. They’re packed with beautiful sculpture, architecture and a melange of memorabilia ranging from sweet (a thick book stuffed with photos in a plastic, weather-proof case) to strange (a fishbowl). It rained early this morning, and the cold mist and
The leaves are brown and the light is gold.
I’m on a solo trip to Paris this week. Evan and I usually travel together, but I’m here working on a new project for Chronicle Books (more on that later). I’m staying in my friend Erica’s studio apartment in Montmartre. It’s the most charming place, and each day as I come and go, I’m greeted by
It was a busy summer, and we are a bit behind schedule, but the latest volume of the Paris Journal is live. Volume Two takes you to the twin islands at the heart of the city, the Île St. Louis and Île de la Cité. The day begins moments before dawn at the Cité train