Jody Amable

Like most nerd realms, music writing is a predominantly male world. Especially if, like me, your greatest love is classic rock.

The further I get into this series, the harder time I am having remembering what the eff has happened so far. You see, I am an Old Lady.

If I let everyone off the hook for extenuating circumstances like, “He’s over 50, so he probably just doesn’t know any better,” no one’s ever going to stop calling me “sweetie.”

The neighbors turned their lights off. My dog fell sound asleep. I kept reading. And at 1:03 am, I finished. All was well.

So far, Deathly Hallows is, to me, about the divide between the living, the dead, and the living who have seen death. Harry and I are part of an exclusive club: Those under 30 who have experienced death. And when I say “experienced,” I don’t mean “witnessed.” I mean really, really felt it, all the way through.

Harnessing the courage within myself—courage I didn’t even know I had—to coolly, calmly call this guy out has made me a better human being.

In this time of toy-giving, I'm reflecting on the impact one doll made on me and, I'm willing to bet, a small subset of other girls, too.

A new feature with music picks tailor-made to ensure your weekend jam sessions are absolutely ravishing.

In the aftermath of my mom passing, I've learned to reconcile our rocky relationship with the knowledge that she loved me.

There are a lot of things to hate about the Olympics.