I grew up in Buffalo, New York, where my mother was a public school teacher, and my father dabbled in… let’s call it “alternative entrepreneurship.” We lived a simple lower-middle-class life in a neighborhood full of friends and neighbors I’m still in regular contact with because Buffalonians are ride-or-die like that. My greatest childhood achievement was skillfully avoiding homework and responsibility, a strategy so effective that I somehow got accepted to a real college—Boston University. It was there that I finally fell in love: with history (and, miraculously, with studying for the first time).

After graduating, I moved to Los Angeles at warp speed, chasing a gaggle of friends (great decision) and a boyfriend (terrible decision). LA is where I started dating my future husband, an actor, because clearly, I love a challenge. My career began at the Shoah Foundation (now USC Shoah Foundation) in the history department, and soon I dove into graduate school to work on a PhD in Modern Jewish History. Graduate school was a waking nightmare, but when I finally emerged, the Holocaust Survivor community in LA tapped me to become CEO of Holocaust Museum LA, the oldest Holocaust museum in America. I faked it till I made it, and while it nearly killed me, I made my career there.

Then 2021 rolled around, and with it, a mid-life plot twist: I chucked my career after a series of “fun” life events like divorce, lawsuits, and losing my father. I decided to write full-time and embrace life’s messiness head-on.

Nowadays, I split my time between Long Beach, where I live in a charmingly eccentric beach town with a population of about 12 people (my kind of people, really), and Hell’s Kitchen, NYC. My 17-year-old son keeps me grounded—or at least busy—while our puggle Dexter, whose IQ rivals that of a walnut, serves as my number-one fan. Dexter loves me more than any other living creature, and honestly, who am I to argue with that?

I spend my time reading, writing, paddleboarding, saving the Jewish People, and replaying my questionable life choices when normal people are sleeping. It’s not glamorous, but it’s my circus, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Well, maybe the world and better hair.

Photo by Gillian Laub