¡Bienvenido! a Living in Spanglish
Hi there! Not sure how you found me, but the important thig is you did, so welcome…bienvenido. This blog started as a dream, literally, of which there is a full explanation in here somewhere. And while intentions of capturing, in detail, a life-changing move from the US to Barcelona, Spain were there, life got in the way. Work habits, deeply ingrained through decades of corporate grind’ing, were hard to bend, let alone break. The desire to follow my passion and write for a living was repeatedly bullied into submission by fear, a fear of success, if you must know, thinly disguised as an overload of work and responsibility.
But here we are, four years after the initial escape from our reality and relocation to a kinder, gentler culture and pace of life, I’m just getting started on my passion project, which, for now, we’ll just say is writing. My preferred format is short story, in both fiction and creative non-fiction genres; but you’ll also find blog posts with “lessons learned” advice scribblings, stupid Steven stories, and even some portfolio pieces I´ve created for some amazing friends who have had more confidence in my abilities than I may ever have.
My goal in writing is simple: make people feel something, anything–happy, horny, sad, superior to me, sorry for me, embarrassed for me, I don’t care. And if I do make you feel something, I’d appreciate a note in the comments, even if it’s “I hated that story, you’re an effing idiot for even posting it and you’re mother should be ashamed of being your mother, you disgust me, I want that divorce now.” Sorry, honey, I couldn´t really leave this one up.
And know if you do converse with me, I will answer all; at least until that day I’m too damn famous to take the time. But know I will remember those who were kind enough to criticize, belittle and humiliate me on the way up, and reward you with riches beyond your wildest wet dreams; or a dedication in my first published book, whichever I can do first.
Right now, there are only a few of you: Damon, my personal proofreader in life and forever love; Lisane “you ARE a writer, Steven” Basquiat; Fran from Gold Medal Fitness in Garwood, NJ who was the first…well, only person to ask for an autograph when my Going Glossophobic piece was published in the now shuttered New York Press newspaper (I’m sorry I was too insecure/embarrassed to give you that autograph, but I will make it up to you); Alex, formerly of Soho House Barcelona, for convincing me she wasn’t just being kind to a member when reviewing my work; and most importantly, Marge, my mother and number-one everything (except husband) in life, for believing in me, no matter what.
So, who else is game…?
Latest posts and short stories
Finding Courage with a German on My Back
Standing, frozen-still, my heart is pounding through my chest. At this elevation I can feel the thinness of the air, the cool breeze forcing my eyes shut to wet them. The silence is deafening. [...]
Anti-Social Training
As my delayed 5:37 train out of New York rolled into Newark’s Penn Station, I was feeling the brunt of a fierce but familiar bi-temple headache. As I stood to leave the train, I [...]
Going Glossophobic
[This piece was originally published summer of 2011 in the now shuttered--which I don't think was my fault--New York Press, a free "throwaway" paper available in some of the finest sleazy dive bars in the [...]
Everything For A Reason
Entering the mood-lit cafeteria-turned-dance floor, I ducked under the hanging crepe paper to the relative safety and anonymity of a dark corner. I scanned the room. It was mostly jocks, cheerleaders, and an assortment [...]
What If . . .
What and if. Together two of the most powerful words in the English language. They represent endless possibilities in life and are at the very inception of millions of ideas big and small. Used [...]
Not Well Done
I worry a lot. It’s most likely something I got from my mother. She worries…she worries when I worry, and she worries when I don’t. I’ve inherited her innate ability to know when to [...]
So, About Me….
Well, I worked hard, challenged convention and, through equal parts luck, hard work, and some good intuition, made more out of myself than I ever thought possible. And then, mid-stride of what was proving to be a long and very satisfying run with a major media company, I tripped. I didn’t fall and completely regained my balance, but it startled me.
It was then I reflected, “If I died tomorrow, would I consider my life a success and well-lived?” Hmmm, personally and professionally successful, yes. But, well-lived? I thought of my 3-hour daily commute, social events skipped to tackle an email backlog, and proclamations that began “Someday, I´m going to…” No, not as well-lived I wanted to believe.
A couple years later, I was standing in an empty living room, soulmate of 15 years at my side, and four-legged rescue child at our feet, awaiting a taxi. In front of us, four suitcases, two bike bags, and Zoë’s travel crate. Our lives, packed. Outside, the “House for Rent” sign now simply said, “Rented.”
Our plan, to pen a new chapter in what was, to date, a well-received, but safe and meandering, comedy-drama-love story, was coming together.
Fast forward two years and I still find it a tad unbelievable we are legal residents of Barcelona, Spain; afraid to pinch myself as I may wake from this most splendid of dreams. But I do pinch, sometimes, just to be sure. And having had time to explore this deeply cultured, sometimes frustratingly complex, yet stunningly beautiful city, it’s clear we couldn’t have chosen a better destination.