'Don't Sit On the Baby' Is Available in French!

My first book Don't Sit on the Baby, a babysitting survival guide for kids, is now available in French!

Gardiennage y'all!

This blows my mind as I speak not one word of French. It sounds a lot...artier this way.

Check it out here! ...I think....

Found in Red Hook!

Chilling outside of an apartment building on Hicks. Now I know nothing about addiction, medical care, syringes, OR needles, but I do know that the UPS color scheme has some competish. 

My Shitty Weekend

There is a certain morbid pleasure in emotional trauma. Much in the same way that your organs tell you you're hungry, sated, tired, caffeinated, nervous, embarrassed, uncomfortable or frightened, you're also relying on your body for primal cues that were synaptically imbued long ago. If we feel sad, we often wonder if we're actually sad, and we do some complicated math to talk ourselves out of it. We can fool ourselves into believing that emotions are a choice, sure.

The physical, however, makes it a Real Thing.

How fascinating it is to have a Real Thing on my hands!

When the primal cues deliver, it's sort of neat. The doorbell rings, my hands start shaking. The darkness outside + that photo = stomach pains. The desire to run is actually making my legs tense up...that's a new one. However, since I can't leave, my brain has taken it upon itself to trip on some homespun acid, convincing me that this house is no discrete construction: it is everything, it is Time itself, it is All There Is and Ever Will Be. The walls seem thicker than before, the beds more uncomfortable. My eyes dart and my skin jumps, thanks to the unfriendly shadow people who loom outside of every door. Best to stay in the room with the broadest watchtower view. Simple equations!

The emotional side effects are less fascinating. There's crying and screaming and fits of rage, poor judgment, emboldened cursing. This is all sandwiched by bouts of religious-like optimism and a sense of gratefulness that could part the clouds and unleash rainbows and fucking unicorns and puppies. Nobody likes to see these emotional bits. Impositions at best. Complicated math will clear them right up.

But the physical is made of atoms and entropy. Neal DeGrasse Tyson can't even deny this shit.

Yes, how fascinating to have Real Thing on my hands. Do I get a prize?

I think I have carpal tunnel so I'm dictating this post

Today at work I felt a rather disturbing numbness running from my thumb through my forearm. Extensive Internet research indicates that I have carpal tunnel syndrome. Either that, or according to Web MD, I'm having a stroke. It says MD so it must be right.

Instead of going to a doctor, I'm testing out the simple dictation feature on the Mac to help me write my book. My deadline scoffs at excuses. Turns out, it's not an ideal technology for writing a book, at all. Whatsoever. Or for writing a blog. This is taking fucking forever.

It's this one. You probably recognize it from such well-known places as your iPhone.

However the technology's grasp of individual words and phrases is pretty good, and it doesn't shy away from curse words obviously.

 Let's test this motherfucker. Poop.

Note: my diction is pretty good, and my accent is uncomplicated by Cupertino, California standards.

Self-flagellation  =   correct!

Abdel Fatah al-Sisi  = Of Dell Fatah LCC

What in the ever loving fuck is going on with my hand = correct!

This shit is mad fluvial = correct!

The lyrics to "All Night Long" by Lionel Richie:

We're going to Pozzi Kallaramo fiesta forever come on and seeing and long on my long on nine long Hey man jumbo jumbo.


Things apparently start to fall apart when you sing to it.

I Don't Mean to Write "Fun" All the Time, But I Do Anyway

I recently submitted a short story to an amazing, highly reputable publication. I was rejected, but not because the story stank (hooray!)

The kind and generous reviewer (read: I'd like to submit again so I still love you a lot!) told me that the tone was off from the rest of the pieces they planned to publish for that issue. He said my piece was light and funny, and that their latest edition would be full of dark and serious fare. He advised me to re-apply after a few more cycles.

When I say the reviewer was generous, I mean it. He didn't have to tell me why I was rejected, and he didn't have to encourage me to apply later on. It was above and beyond what most people do in this hyper-busy, callous industry. It's more than what I would do, for I prefer the "Ignore-and-Dash" method when it comes to rejecting employees.

But, what did throw me off is this: I swear on my life that I didn't mean for my piece to be light and funny.

I mean, I didn't think it was Crime and Punishment or anything, but I honestly believed it was one of the most serious things I have ever written. Some real pathos to the face! A true Bildungsroman! Yes, there's humor, but dark humor. The "wow this shit is makin' me think" humor, not the "hahahahahahaha *snort*" humor. Even then, I believed the humor was trumped by a dead-ass, if not gratingly serious message: the protagonist is way fucked up by all accounts, and this isn't going to end well. So, go be sad.

That I was completely wrong about the piece --  at least according to this guy who has many, many more degrees than me -- says a lot about me. This picture also says a lot about me.

Lesson: you can't escape who you are. I will never be Dostoevsky unless you're just asking me to wear a fake beard and eat a lot of goulash. Thankfully, I do both, often.

Awesome Reviews for '77 Things You Absolutely Have To Do Before You Finish College!"

Great news! The reviews for my latest book are in, and they're spectacular! Thank you San Francisco City Book Review, Publishers Weekly, and Voya Magazine!

This is me right now.

And now for review excerpts in large fonts!

"Readers will find a good dose of inspiration here. . . Bondy's writing style is conversational and infused with a humorous touch. Readers will likely get the sense that they are getting advice from a big sister who has been there, one who encourages a balance of fun, healthy risks with responsibility with an eye on the future. This would make a good gift for high school graduates." 

--- Voya Magazine

"A terrific addition to any high school grad’s gift pile or freshman-year move-in gear." 

--- San Francisco City Book Review (full review here)

"Bondy provides an array of opportunities to make their time in college as well-rounded as possible. And much of the advice applies to life beyond college, too."

 --- Publisher's Weekly (full review here)

If you haven't bought it yet....get it at Zest Books!

Beauteous Red Hook

The view from my jog today. That's Lady Liberty overlooking the dazzling Ikea Ferry on a foggy day. I should be feeling stuff on my insides, but mostly I'm wondering why the hell I'm jogging.