Author: Los Angeles Press Club

By Anita W. Harris Lately, it’s been hard to get out of bed in the mornings. Forced isolation during this pandemic has taken a toll on my motivation. Nothing seems worth doing. So on a recent Saturday, I stayed in bed. There was nowhere to go, no Zoom meetings to attend. It seemed the most sensible thing to do. Or was it? I couldn’t help but wonder, how would I know if I were losing my ability to reason? Most things don’t make sense now, like avoiding my neighbors as…

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By Ruby Scanlon As a young girl, my sister always had this innate goodness to her– always tending to whatever weeds grew in the outside patch of grass we called our backyard, or caring for any stray cat that came wandering it’s way to the front door. I think the enormity of her heart was best revealed in her declaration of what she knew her profession to one day be. While her peers all wished to grow up and be a princess, rockstar, or athlete, my sister gleefully declared one…

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By Alexis Daish “We have breaking news, the pandemic now hitting our aviation industry – Qantas has announced it’s standing down two-thirds of its staff.” Standing on Wall Street, I couldn’t have felt further away from home. I’d been in New York for days, never returning to Los Angeles as planned after Harvey Weinstein’s sentence. I was going live in thirty seconds, breaking news to Australia that traders on the NYSE floor tested positive to COVID-19. I heard the presenters of our breakfast TV show – Today Show – gasping…

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By Pam Tallman “Don’t kill it!” I shouted at my husband. The shocked look on his face I’m sure matched that of the spider he was about to flatten. That’s how starved for conversation I am, I’ve started chatting with the spider who has taken up residence in my kitchen garden window. In fact, we’ve become good friends. You might say, pandemic pals.  I first met Spidella—Spidey was already taken—a week ago when I spotted her crawling across my kitchen countertop. (Actually I have no idea if it’s a him…

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By Shawna Kenney “Thank you for being an awesome dog,” the veterinarian said, kissing Nolan’s copper-colored head before making the final injection. Nolan died in my lap on Feb 5th. My husband Rich and I were still grieving when the global pandemic hit in March, but getting back to normal, able to talk about other things, adjusting to the missing canine energy in the apartment. I finally started sleeping through the night—after having to get up to check on him so much in his last weeks, when the cancerous tumors…

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