Some happy news to chase the sad: I am thrilled to announce I’m now represented by Heather Carr at The Friedrich Agency. Heather has already been an incredibly kind advocate for me and I’m so excited to work with her on my novel-in-progress. More soon!!!
P.S. If The Friedrich Agency’s client list were a classroom, I would be sitting three chairs behind Elizabeth. Strout #BrainBlownEmoji #CryingEmoji
My beloved dad, Webb Harwell, passed away on February 1st. I helped to write his official obituary, which you can read here.
Here, a little more: my dad lived with a cancer diagnosis for a long time—over twelve years. For several of those years, he was more or less himself. Then he had another surgery and lost a lot of functionality, but he was still as good-humored, as gentle, and as funny as ever. He had crackerjack comic timing. But still, he was different; he couldn’t call me by himself on the phone, or take his cherished dogs for walks.
One time as Ross and I were travelling home from his house I was feeling sad. So I leaned my head on his shoulder and said, “my dad could beat your dad at arm wrestling.” It wasn’t even necessarily untrue—my dad was always shockingly strong, all the way until the end. Grown men feared his handshake. But it’s not, like, something I cared about. I just remember wanting to feel like a child. I wanted to feel like my dad would be there forever.
“You’re right,” Ross said, putting his arm around me. “He totally could.”
My dad was the strongest, the sweetest, the cleverest, the funniest. One time he made me a flute out of a bamboo reed. A flute! Out of a reed! He was a vegetarian for almost his entire life and took me to Taco Bell because I loved it. He found the loveliest children’s books to read to me and rented environmentally-themed cartoons that have not not scarred me for life. He was magical. He was real. We disagreed sometimes and lost precious time. But I never for a moment lost sight of how lucky I was to call him my dad.
One of my most precious possessions is a corn husk doll. My dad helped me to make it (or rather, “helped” “me” to “make it”) at the San Jose Children’s Museum one day. I was probably around nine or so. I’m 36 now and have kept it carefully preserved through at least a dozen moves , a minor miracle given how fragile it is, how difficult to keep it from getting crushed or cracked. And every time I touch that little doll I think of my dad’s hands shaping her skirt, braiding her hair. He was so strong, do you understand? He could beat your dad at arm wrestling and still he shaped all that strength into gentleness, into love. He was special. He was my dad.
Webb Follin Harwell
December 15, 1945 - February 1, 2023
For the last two years, the Golden Goose Award has been 50% of my day job. The award honors seemingly obscure, “silly” federally-funded research that’s led to major breakthroughs in science. Every year, I’ve gotten to meet a team of incredible awardees, get to know them, and help shape their stories. It’s been a joy.
This year, I worked with a team of scientists from Utah and the Philippines. Impeded by supply chain issues while conducting DNA research in the Philippines, Lourdes Cruz and Baldomero Olivera began examining cone snails, a group of highly venomous sea mollusks which happened to be in abundant supply along the country’s coastal waters. Several decades and countless airline miles later, and with the help of then-undergraduate students Craig Clark and Michael McIntosh, the team would go on to discover the raw material for a non-opioid pain reliever and a powerful new tool for studying the central nervous system, all hidden in the cone snail’s potent venom. You can read the rest of the story (it’s a good one!) here.
Another exciting Golden Goose-related update: I took one more step in my very slow, very passive quest to give up writing forever and become a voiceover STAR by narrating this tribute video for Rep. Jim Cooper, a Congressman from Tennessee who came up with the idea for the award and who is being forced into retirement this year due to horrifically cynical gerrymandering and voter suppression 🙃
Guess who conned her way into getting interviewed by BUSINESS. INSIDER, of all things?! It’s me, certified Cool Aunt™. Thanks to Hillary Hoffower for the interview! You should check out her whole byline, it’s rad.
It’s baby’s first Pushcart, y’all. It’s a huge honor to have this story, my first published flash (!!!), nominated by the very good, very cool, very tasteful folks behind HAD.
My Cup of Jo essay on coming out (to myself, mostly) as bi got a link in this essay/guide/manifesto by Rachel Miller, which is really just my excuse to post Miller’s essay here. It’s an amazing, helpful, funny piece.
In today’s exciting employment news, I won a spot in this year’s Mellon / American Council of Learned Societies (ACLS) Public Fellows Program cohort! I’ll be leaving the Folger Shakespeare Library in late August to start a two-year fellowship with the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS), where I’ll be working on their Engaging Scientists and Engineers in Policy Coalition (ESEP) and the Golden Goose Award. It’s an acronympalooza, and I’m so excited.
AAAS’ Office of Government Relations is thrilled to welcome Haylie Swenson (@hayliebswenson) as our @ACLS1919 Public Fellow, starting this fall! Haylie will serve as a Government Relations Project Manager and work on the @GoldGooseAward & @ESEPCoalition! https://t.co/elIYb6lKZJ https://t.co/fL1qHC1Jzx
— AAAS Gov't Relations (@AAAS_GR) June 25, 2020
I was really proud to be interviewed for this story. Ashley Fetters is a fantastic interviewer and writer, and this piece is a holistic and compassionate look at the effects of sexual pain on relationships.