Job Of The Day: Astronaut (No, Seriously)

Are any Billfolders applying to become astronauts? It wouldn’t surprise me at all—y’all are some of the smartest people I know, and I bet at least one of you knows how to fly a jet aircraft.

A Gift-Giving Question Of The Day

There are a lot of single people giving two gifts to their coupled friends, or three or four gifts to their friends with kids, and receiving one gift “from the Tanners.”

Physical Books Increase Kids’ Reading Performance—But at What Cost?

If we’re assuming you want to go all the way to the point of diminishing returns and collect 500 print volumes, you might end up spending over $3,000 on books.

Relationships Are Needs, Not Wants

Going to a professional development workshop will put me in contact with other writers and editors in Seattle. Going to see Hamilton will put me in New York, where I’ll get to visit my NYC clients and (I hope) say hi to Mike and Ester in person. These are wants, but they’re also relationship-building wants—and I need relationships.

Neo-Victorians: They’re Financially Just Like Us!

I absolutely resonate with “we try to be middle-class people, but our income now doesn’t match up with what middle class is defined as anymore.”

Want a Job? Move to San Jose

The data suggests that San Jose has more available jobs than it has unemployed residents. Perhaps it really is the best city in which to find a job.

Are Scholastic Book Orders Worth It?

I had an instant vision of myself as the Book Fairy, going to Scholastic Book Fairs and giving librarians handfuls of cash to redistribute as needed.

Working, While Taking Time to Grieve for People You Don’t Know

Everything stops and my heart aches and I start clicking links and opening tabs and part of me is grieving, and part of me is furious that mass shootings are still an entrenched and unstoppable part of our culture.

What Were People Shopping for on Black Friday? Guns

As Ester wrote earlier this year, our culture often uses images of guns to sell other products—but this is a sober reminder that guns don’t have any trouble selling themselves.