PinnedMember-onlyDon’t Torch The Skin You Live InAfter a lifetime of battling my body, I’m waving the white flag — TW: Disordered eating, eating disorders. My first memory of food is my mother trying to pry the tines of a fork into my mouth. Her pleas were quiet and urgent, and it was a rare thing to see my mother cry. She was impenetrable, violent, and beautiful. Tears are the…Self10 min readSelf10 min read
Published inA Thimble of Light·PinnedMember-onlyWhen The Hurt Comes from Inside the HouseFamilial betrayal is the deepest cut — When he first came into my life, I was suspicious. Who was this man with the Irish brogue and gameshow smile fixing me boxed macaroni and cheese? Who was this man who claimed he was my pal, my friend — let’s ride in the Jeep with the windows rolled down…Family7 min readFamily7 min read
Published inMarketing Made Simple·PinnedMember-onlyFive Steps For How I Build BrandsCreate a brand people love from someone who does it for a living. — I will say this until undertakers shovel gravel and dirt over my face — data is directional, but definitive. Data is your tour guide, your backstage pass, and the operator’s manual you instantly bin when you unpack IKEA furniture or complex appliances. The power in data is how you use…Marketing19 min readMarketing19 min read
PinnedMember-onlyAbout Felicia C. SullivanHey there! Welcome to my virtual home. — Vitals Born & raised in New York. I’ve lived in Los Angeles for the past six years. Started career at an investment bank: A time I’d like to forget. Ditched the suit to build a profitable dot.com in 1999. Built a boutique digital agency from $1MM to $20MM in 4 years. …Felicia C Sullivan4 min readFelicia C Sullivan4 min read
Nov 30Member-onlyYou Didn’t Fail Because You Don’t Have a Big LifeMaybe the world failed you. — A few weeks ago, an acquaintance from my book publishing days posted a plea on LinkedIn. She’s been looking for work, tirelessly. She sent hundreds of resumes, penned as many cover letters. Worked her network, took more classes — she did all the things, and yet, she can’t make her…Life Lessons4 min readLife Lessons4 min read
Oct 27Member-onlyI Am Not Your Best FriendLet’s talk about personal essays and parasocial relationships — Years ago, I wrote a fairly popular online blog. I shared tales of croissant-baking and friendship making. A woman was a comma like that, breathlessly typing about her day. A lot of the stories would find their way into my first book, The Sky Isn’t Visible From Here. I used…Relationships5 min readRelationships5 min read
Oct 4Member-onlyThere’s Blood In The HouseSometimes, you are a walking crime scene. — You are a crime scene. Chalk outline. Yellow tape. Blood river runs. Before the mess you made in the bedroom, you’re barefaced and lonely. Eating dry cereal out of boxes. You are neither lucky nor charmed. Instead, your face is turbulent. A body tumbling into the black ocean. A mother…Mental Health7 min readMental Health7 min read
Published inA Thimble of Light·Oct 2Member-onlyWhat a Shattered Knee, a Diabetic Cat, and 110F Heat Will Teach YouI spent five months in Bakersfield. It was terrible, but I don’t regret it. — Years ago, I was a devout Christian. I’d been saved, and in that moment I thought the world would be set to rights. I thought faith would give me clarity and calm. I found faith as an adult who nearly drowned in Mexico, a woman who wanted to believe in…Self Improvement6 min readSelf Improvement6 min read
Sep 28Member-onlyIf You Use ChatGPT, You’re a Lazy ThiefMy book was one of the 191,000 used to train generative AI and I’m not flattered. I’m livid. — I will be brief because this is for the writers who’ve put in the hard work to only have it stolen by tech companies building programs to make lazy people even lazier. I said what I said. Over the summer, my second book, Follow Me Into the Dark, was one…AI2 min readAI2 min read
Published inMaster Writing Mechanics·Sep 27Member-onlyPublishing is Brutal & Elitist. But It Shouldn’t BeIf you live to write, you deserve to be in the room. — I’ve been writing for as long as I could remember. My first publication was in second grade — a haiku in which I likened my mother’s voice to thunder. Before I was 10, I’d seen junkies overdosing in parks, bodies carried out on stretchers; cocaine on glass tables and heroin…Writing11 min readWriting11 min read