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A Nickel’s Worth of Free Advice

Stop the presses!  I’ve learned that my sister Wendy Darling’s book tour begins this Saturday at Neverland Books!  So I figured I’d use this week’s editorial to talk a little bit about it.  In case you haven’t read any of my earlier editorials on the subject, Wendy has written a book called “Ask Wendy: Advice on Life, Love and Living,” which is being put out by the publishing division of JH Media.  We’re all familiar with her storied career as advice columnist during her tenure running “Dear Darling” for the Kensington Chronicle before she moved on to bigger and better things, and this book is a must-have for anyone who enjoyed that feature!  Click on over to the JH Media site to read a few excepts, in case you’d like to try before you buy.  And using the form right below that, you can sign up to have free excerpts delivered right to your inbox.

I, for one, couldn’t be happier that our brief and unfounded estrangement is at an end, as I find myself in dire need of advice in the “love” category.  But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little guilty asking about my love life when I know hers is currently in such bitter turmoil.  I gather an ill-fated double date ended with her current and former beaus coming to blows.  And given that several of the players in this drama are near and dear to my heart, my brother and I have been put in the unenviable position of having to navigate this interpersonal minefield.  For the record, I personally have nothing but respect for Jas Hook, and based on what I’ve seen, he has comported himself as nothing but a perfect gentleman in regards to my sister.  And a part of me regrets my involvement in a recent community theatre piece that shall remain nameless; to say it amounted to little more than a thinly veiled attack on the current object of my sister’s affections would do thin veils an injustice.  [I should note that this is not meant as a slight against anyone but the play’s author; the cast and crew were nothing if not consummate professionals]

But I digress.  While this won’t cure all of my sister’s woes, I suspect that all we need to do to take her mind off her troubles is to make her first book signing  first book signing a rousing success.  To that end, I hope all of you will join me this Saturday, 8/15, at 1:30 p.m. EST at Neverland Books.  For more details, feel free to reach out to John Smee, Neverland Books proprietor Bri Valdivia, Cindy Sue, Constance Moriarty or any of the store’s other amazing employees.

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Posted in Editorials
Posted on August 13, 2015

Pity Party Canceled

Dear readers, I’ve read over the editorials I published in the past couple of months, and I’d like to take a moment to apologize for how myopically angsty they are!  I guess when you look at your life and you find enough areas wanting, it’s easy to get lost in a veritable quagmire of self pity.  What’s more, after a while that kind of bleak outlook can become something of a self-fulfilling prophecy.  This irrational fear of failure, this unflinching belief that the bad parts of your history will inevitably repeat themselves, can relegate you to a life of stagnating inaction.  And I don’t think I realized just how introverted and work-obsessed all of this had made me.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I am a workaholic at heart; I always prefer being busy to the alternative, and you know what they say about idle hands.  But I think that many of you, my stalwart friends, recognized in me something that I’m only now starting to grasp; In recent months, I’ve withdrawn even deeper into my work to distract myself from all of life’s other problems.  My work life is something I can unequivocally control.  There’s a certain safety in that.  But it’s entirely too easy to focus on work to the expense of… life!  And I’m hoping, with your help, I’ll be able to see that from now on.

I’m realizing finally that, more often than not, it’s best to confront problems head-on.  Case in point, I let Wendy’s lack of correspondence fester in my mind, creating a nightmarish (and entirely fictional) scenario in which she was moving on without me.  For the longest time, I avoided confronting her about it because at some level I believed that doing so would confirm my greatest fears.  But after finally hashing things out with her, I understand that her lack of contact had almost nothing to do with me, and that, in the final analysis, a life without her siblings in it is as terrifying a prospect for her as it is for me.

What’s more, I know that you loyal readers have had a front-row seat for the saga of John Darling’s romantic journey, or lack-thereof.  Well, on that front, I’m happy to report that maybe, just maybe, the axiom of “’you’ll find someone when you least expect it” may finally be bearing fruit.  It’s really too early for me to tell, but suffice to say I may be coming to all of you for advice in this area in the not-too-distant future.  I know someone’s love life may seem like a particularly unusual thing to crowd-source, but, honestly, I feel like I’ll need all the help I can get.  And I do so very much value and trust all of your opinions.

So thank you, all of you, for the constant support and words of encouragement.  If ever again you see me teetering on the precipice of unchecked self pity, please don’t hesitate to let me know.  Sometimes a dark outlook change comes on so gradually it’s difficult to acknowledge just how unclearly you’re thinking, you’re too close to your own life to see it.  And I want all of you to know that I want this to be a two-way street.  I’m not the only person in Neverland to become mired in a bog of uncertainty and self doubt, it happens to all of us from time to time.  In those moments, when you have questions, concerns, or just simply need a friend, you know where to find me, and I hope you won’t hesitate to reach out.  We’re stronger together than we are apart, and I expect I’ll be seeing more of you as I begin to crawl out of my self-imposed exile.

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Posted in Editorials
Posted on August 6, 2015

The Dating Game

We are, each of us, getting older.  Every second of every day.  And as we get older things change.  I’ve talked at length about how my sister Wendy has found a new life at JH Media, and how even Michael is running Dear Darling now and developing a life of his own.  Our family has been so tight knit for so much of our lives that as my siblings and I grow apart, I’m feeling a void of intimacy in my life that I don’t know quite how to deal with.  Trying to fill that void with work, clearly, is not the answer.  For a while, I’ve been trying to build up the courage to wade into the dating pool, but the concept remains wholly alien to me.

I fear I’ve missed that high school phase experimental phase that most of my peers went through, and I can never go back.  That sort of trial and error period where you throw caution to the wind, make your share of mistakes, and set a baseline for the rest of your romantic life.  Usually by my age, people have been around the block enough times to have received at least a little positive reinforcement in this area.  But now even asking somebody out seems like a bridge to far?  What it they say no?  I just don’t know if I could take that kind of rejection.

And I must admit that I fail to understand the online dating-hookup culture.  In the millennial limbo of protracted adolescence, casual dating seems to be the order of the day.  The vast majority of college educated millennials say they’re not planning on settling down anytime soon, and this sometimes leads to us not wanting to put labels on relationships; because 10 years is a long time to be “dating” someone and not get married, at least in the eyes of generations gone by.  But I still cling to silly romantic notions like “love at first sight,” and the longer I fail to experience these things, the more I’m forced to consider that there might be something wrong with me.  It’s possible I’m such a hopeless romantic precisely because I haven’t had any significant romantic relationships, and my primary frame of reference for these things is pop culture.  Also, I had to grow up listening to the fairytale beginning of my parents’ romance, which I still hold up as the relationship standard, even if their marriage isn’t necessarily having a fairytale middle.

It’s also distinctly possible that I’m overthinking this.  I do excel at overthinking things.  But everyone tells me it’ll happen when I least expect it.  That I can’t force these things, and that the greatest relationships present themselves when you’re not even looking.  But I have nearly an entire lifetime of not looking under my belt, and that kind of happiness still eludes me.  Part of me wonders, “If it was going to happen, wouldn’t it have happened by now?”

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Posted in Editorials
Posted on July 27, 2015

Print is Dead. Long Live Print?

Is print dead?  It’s a complicated question.  Here’s what we know: The New York Times bought The Boston Globe for $1.1 billion in 1993.  In 2013, Red Sox owner John Henry bought the paper for $70 million.  In just 20 years, the Globe depreciated in value by more than a billion dollars.  Starting in 2009, a photojournalist named Will Steacy spent 5 years documenting the decline of the Philadelphia Inquirer, the third oldest surving paper in our nation.  Between 1990 and 2009, the Inquirer laid off nearly 500 of their 700 staff.  The paper, once housed in a Daily-Planet like art deco building colloquially referred to as the Tower of Truth, was relegated in 2012 to the third floor of a former department store on the periphery of the city.  Once known for breaking important local and international stories, like the Opec Oil scandal in 1973, the Inquirer is down to a circulation of merely 150,000, and boasts ad revenues that are 25% of what they were a decade ago.  And I’m sure most of us native Ohioans remember when the Brown Publishing Company filed for Chapter 11 in 2012.  Brown owned 18 daily newspapers, 27 paid weeklys, many of which were in our proud state.

And if you’ve been following my father on Twitter, you’ll know that he may be a little too open about just how much this decline in the valuation of print newspapers has affected the Kensington Chronicle.  I debated whether or not to write this at all, because dyed-in-the-wool newspapermen are trained not to make themselves the story, so stories of the demise of hyperlocal papers like our own have been in many cases woefully untold.  But since this indeed an editorial, I felt it was not entirely inappropriate for me to editorialize.  Additionally, putting up a brave front in the face of declining print sales does nothing for you loyal readers who still pick up a physical copy of the paper on a daily basis.  If we’re in dire financial straits, our loyal readership should be the first to know.  Because it’s you who will be most affected if the family dynasty that is the Kensington Chronicle ceases to exist..

As much as I have been a strong proponent for the digital edition of the Chronicle, I am well aware of just how much online news sources have contributed to the decline in print newspapers.   Classified ads, once the lifeblood of many papers, have largely migrated to websites like Craigs List.  And one of the true casualties of online news sources muscling out their print competitors is local civic pride.  Who will cover local mayoral and city council races if papers like the Chronicle fold?

On the other hand, doomsayers have been declaring that print is dead for at least a decade, and they have, strictly speaking, yet to be proven right.  I can only hope that people across the U.S. are realizing that they should turn to online sources for certain types of news, and papers like the Chronicle for the hyperlocal fare that is our bread and butter.  I urge all of you readers to renew your print subscriptions to the paper, and to spread the word about us.  Because even though Father is being somewhat candid about the paper’s financial situation, I feel as if he is shielding me and the rest of my family from the worst of it.  Losing this paper would be like losing a part of myself.  And we will not go quietly into that dark night; not if I have anything to say about it.

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Posted in Editorials
Posted on July 23, 2015

Growing Apart

Recently, I had the opportunity to attend my sister’s welcome home party, and I was struck by the melancholy realization that the older we get, the more and more quickly things change.  I’ve known Wendy for literally as long as I can remember, and for so many years, whether we liked it or not, my siblings and I were inseparable.  Dozens of photo albums’ worth of important milestones came and went in the blink of an eye, and I watched my siblings grow up so gradually that I was scarcely aware they were changing at all.  But after she’s spent a mere 6 months, Wendy’s made herself a new life in New York City, filled with a cast of unfamiliar characters, and that realization has forced me to come to grips with just how much I’ve missed her.

Of course, Wendy isn’t the only person guilty of moving on.  It’s shocking how quickly Neverland sans Wendy has become the new status quo, for all of us.  Michael stepped in to replace Wendy at Dear Darling.  Wendy’s duties as surrogate mother to Michael have fallen to me.  Our friend Lily even took Wendy’s place as Peter’s girlfriend.  The circle has closed, and everyone in it seems perfectly happy.  And yet, I wonder how much of that is a carefully crafted self-delusion that we all share.

I’ve been so excited about Wendy’s book and all that that means for her that it’s blinded me to the reality of my own feelings about the void she left in all our lives.  Much to my own surprise (and dismay), the reception Wendy received from both Michael and myself at her triumphant homecoming was downright chilly.  And the bizarre notion of Wendy being a visitor in Neverland just brings out in stark relief how off kilter everything’s been in her absence.  I’d hoped her return would bring us all closer together, but instead some things have come to light that threaten to drive a wedge between lifelong friends.

Now, change isn’t always a bad thing.  I recently wrote an editorial about how Neverland’s own Jas Hook pulled himself up by his bootstraps and improved almost every aspect of his life.  Though, in his case, he did have to move away and leave everything he knew behind in order to do so.  And, to be clear, I don’t in any way begrudge Wendy her desire to forge her own destiny; she’s amazing, and I’m truly thrilled that the world at large is starting to see that.  I just hope that Michael, Father and I factor somewhere into that success.  And that our family and our friendships can stay the course in these stormy waters.

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Posted in Editorials
Posted on July 16, 2015

Neverland Underground

More than 240 years ago, our great nation declared its independence, severing its ties to Great Britain.  But the road towards stability was fraught with discord.  In 1861, a bitter divide between the north and the south plunged the United States of America into Civil War.  And this couldn’t have come at a worse time for the city of Neverland; our town had only been in existence for two short years.   Neverland was so nascent it was even money whether or not it was even going to survive, and suddenly our entire nation was torn asunder!

Only two minor battles were fought on Ohio soil, but that didn’t mean that our proud State was about to stand on the sidelines.  The State of Ohio distinguished itself in a number of ways during the War Between the States.  For one thing, Ulysses S. Grant, General-in-Chief of the Union army, was, himself, Ohio-born.  What’s more, some 320,000 Buckeyes enlisted in the Union Army, making Ohio third behind only New York and Pennsylvania in total manpower contributed to the Northern war effort.

But Ohio, and Neverland specifically, made another indelible mark on our nation’s history, in the years leading up to the war and beyond; it was a haven for runaway slaves.  The one-time pirates that founded Neverland with J.M. Barrie built a shelter that came to be called the Underground Home, which was, as the name suggested, literally underground.  Former pirate Samuel Hook, ancestor to Neverland’s own Jas Hook, and a fairy by the name of Liberty Bell were the driving force behind our town’s involvement in the Underground Railroad.  Liberty and her fairy friends acted as beacons, leading runaway slaves to their underground haven.

Of course ultimately, our town and our nation endured.  But I’m going to take today to remember just how hard fought our independence really was, and how close we came to letting it all slip away.  Our state’s significant contribution during the Civil War is just one more reason why I am, as ever, proud to be an Ohioan.

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Posted in Editorials
Posted on July 6, 2015

For Love And Country

Unless you’ve been living under Skull Rock, by now you know that this past Friday, the United States Supreme Court made a momentous decision; gay marriage is now legal in all 50 states in the union.  And words cannot adequately describe how much this means to me.  My social media feeds are one solid, unending rainbow… and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

This historic decision builds on earlier cases, like Loving v. Virginia, which overturned state bans on interracial marriage, and Undine v. Ohio which granted humans and mermaids the right to enter into civil unions.  The Supreme Court finally acknowledged what so many of us have been saying all along, that “the right to marry is a fundamental right inherent in the liberty of the person, and under the Due Process and Equal Protection Clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment couples of the same-sex may not be deprived of that right and that liberty.”

The entire notion that gay marriage was ever somehow distinct from “regular” marriage is a product of a troubling trend that has historically suffused pop culture’s portrayal of gay characters; Far more often than not, gay characters have been defined almost exclusively by their sexuality.  We’ve seen countless, angst-ridden coming out stories, which can give rise to the wildly inaccurate assumption that growing up as a gay child is uniformly fraught with internal strife and external condemnation.  Which is not to say that these things don’t ever happen, far from it.  But I, personally, find it so refreshing when we get to see the other side, when a character’s proclamation of their sexuality is heralded not with a bang but with a whimper.  When their loved ones say, “We kind of already knew, but it wouldn’t have mattered even if we didn’t.”  Because, more and more, that happens in the real world, too.

There’s a theme that’s been running through my editorials of late, this idea that a proper pairing can form a union so much stronger than the sum of its parts.  I know that, historically, there are all sorts of societal reasons why the institution of marriage has stood the test of time that have nothing to do with the lofty idea of true love, but as a person who likes to think of himself as equal parts hopeless and romantic, it still seems to me that in a perfect world, marriage should, in the words of Friday’s Supreme Court decision, “[embody] the highest ideals of love, fidelity, devotion, sacrifice and family.”  And it fills me with unrepentant joy that so many perfect unions of the heart will finally be recognized as perfect unions under the law.  That children with same-sex parents will no longer have to grow up thinking that their family units are somehow less-than, simply because these two people who fell madly in love with one another happen to be of the same gender.

Members of the National LGBTQ Task Force, huddled about the Supreme Court on Friday, hoisted signs that featured two simple words: “Be you.”  I don’t think I’ve seen a more profound and stirring a call to action than that in all of my years on this planet.  And I’ll tell you this much, dear readers: I, for my part, intend to keep on being me for as long as my heart keeps beating.  Because I don’t know how to be anything else.  And I nobody should ever have to.

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Posted in Editorials
Posted on June 30, 2015

The Importance of Being George

In honor of Father’s Day this year, I thought it was long since time I wrote a piece on the man responsible for bringing you the Kensington Chronicle 7 days a week 52 weeks a year, my father and our editor in chief, George Darling. And how, if not for a chance meeting more than 30 years ago at the Neverland Train Station, I wouldn’t even be here.

As you can no doubt imagine, it takes a certain kind of person to run a newspaper day in and day out. George Darling is driven, organized, and knows how and when to delegate. But believe it or not, my father was not always the taskmaster he is today. Though George is loath to admit it himself, my grandfather, David Darling, has imparted to me on more than one occasion that in his formative years, my father was relatively aimless. David Darling saw his son’s potential, but feared that George was in danger of squandering it. George, for his part, wanted the freedom to make his own choices, and in those days, being groomed to take over the family business was the furthest thing from what he wanted.

David Darling was ultimately able to impress upon his son the importance of getting a college education, and George begrudgingly enrolled at Neverland University, from which he emerged four years later with a degree in English and Journalism. But this was far from the last time George and his father would engage in a heated debate about the direction of his life. Not long after graduating, George and David would have the most contentious fight of this kind to date. At an impasse, a furious George stormed off, intent on fleeing Neverland for parts unknown. But fate had other plans.

It just so happened that the woman working the ticket counter at the Neverland Train Station that fateful day was one Mary Davies. To hear my father tell it, once he locked eyes with Mary for the first time, the rest of the world faded away. She was the most beautiful creature George had ever laid eyes on, and from that moment forward, he never thought about leaving Neverland again.

For much of my life, I’ve harbored the belief that romantic entanglements are a distraction, at best. But in recent months, I’ve begun to revise that opinion. I’ve seen evidence of how the right pairing can create a union that is far greater than the sum of its parts. And this was absolutely the case with George and Mary Darling in the early years of their courtship. Now, starting a family was at the forefront of George’s mind, and he decided to put his journalism degree to good use. Much to David Darling’s relief, his son finally agreed to follow in his footsteps, and Grandfather could rest assured that the dynasty of Darlings at the helm of the Kensington Chronicle would continue, unabated.

And, of course, for my money, the most important result of the union of George and Mary Darling is their three children, myself and my siblings. I, personally, have been a newspaperman from the womb, and the paper will be in good hands when my father does decide to retire. So we at the Chronicle wish George Darling, and all of you other fathers out there, a very happy Father’s Day. We owe all of you a debt we can never possibly repay.

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Posted in Editorials
Posted on June 22, 2015

A Good, Right Hook

I mentioned last week that my sister Wendy now works for JH Media in New York City. Well, this week we’re going to take a look at the man who puts the JH in JH Media, Mr. Jas Hook. Jas, née James, was born and raised right here in Neverland. Tragically orphaned at a very young age, James was raised by his father’s sister, Emily Hook. Now, at this point in time, the Hook family was far from well to do, and James faced more than his share of adversity. James, at the time, was a boy of considerable girth for his age, evinced a youthful stutter, and was the butt of many a joke in his schoolboy years. One boy his age, a boy I know quite well, was particularly unkind. It got so bad that when James was 18, he went to live with a cousin in Berkshire, England, finishing out his senior year at Eton College. James subsequently went to Balliol College, where he earned a master’s in Business and Economics, and interned for two years with the world-famous Edward Thatch.

After receiving his master’s, the young entrepreneur, now called Jas, took out a loan to purchase L.J. Silver Pictures, a struggling film studio on the verge of bankruptcy. Renaming it JH Media, Jas turned the company’s fortune around in a mere two years. And making JH Media into a successful film studio was not the apex of his ambition; the company subsequently expanded into television, music and games, becoming nothing short of a media empire. And Jas sits at the helm of his media conglomerate at JH Media’s corporate headquarters in New York City.

And while Jas was building his empire, he was also busy reinventing himself on a personal level. He managed to shed those extra pounds through healthy living, and overcame his childhood stutter. Our town founder J.M. Barrie is one of his personal heroes, and Jas fancies himself an explorer, both literally and figuratively. He forged his journey to England and back again, overcoming personal and financial adversity in a true rags-to-riches story. And so committed is Jas to the idea of transparency and fiscal responsibility that he’s recently installed cameras all over JH Media’s headquarters, laying his entire corporate structure to bare. Jas went from being a troubled, bullied orphan to one of Forbes’ top 100 most influential people for the past three years running. I believe Mr. Hook’s unparalleled success and irreproachable integrity is indicative of just how fruitful a crucible Neverland can be; his is a success story the entire town can be proud of.

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Posted in Editorials
Posted on June 15, 2015

The More Things Change, The More They Stay the Same

Brace yourself, dear readers, we’re about to take another deep dive into the rabbit hole that is the plight of the millennials in the workforce. I’d like to be able to say that things have progressed since the last time I wrote about jobs in Neverland, but it pains me to report that, at least in my own circles, most of us still find ourselves running in circles. And were it not for nepotism, our work situations would be much more dire indeed. My job, as assistant to the editor in chief, and editor of the Kensington Chronicle’s online edition, has not changed, nor has my salary. Our fairy friend Tinkerbell is now my father’s secretary at the paper. My brother Michael has moved up in the world, ever so slightly; he’s gone from the mail room to taking over my sister Wendy advice vlog, Dear Darling.

However, on the other end of the spectrum, I have a good friend (who, for the purposes of this editorial shall remain nameless) who is currently without employment, and would seem to be in no immediate danger of acquiring it. I will say that, in his last job, this individual was particularly ill-equipped to work on anybody’s schedule but his own. That said, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel his pain. With the massive layoffs we’ve seen during the Great Recession, those of us who are still fortunate enough to have our 9-to-5 jobs are working longer hours, and doing the work of two or more people. In this kind of work environment, it becomes increasingly difficult for millennials to juggle their work life and their personal lives. A narrative begins to emerge that millennials can only successful in one of those areas, not both.

Now, if you think about it, the idea of a 9-to-5 salaried position has become less and less relevant the further the industrial age has receded into our society’s rearview mirror. During the era of industrialization, routinized tasks were the order of the day, and this kind of work could be planned far enough in advance that businesses could create set shifts for workers, who would work the same hours, day in and day out, doing exactly the same thing. But now that computers can do a lot of these tasks that used to required manual labor, the landscape is changing.

What’s the upshot of this? Millennials are willing to be paid less than they’re worth, forgo promotions or uproot their lives and move, all for the opportunity to work a job that affords them the kind of flexibility they need to have a life outside of work. And, as you might imagine, when there’s an able-bodied work force that’s willing to take a pay cut to maintain a flexible schedule, the market will adjust to that demand. And the first real businesses to capitalize on this desire for flexible hours have been Uber and its competitors. The problem is, the new picture bears a striking resemblance to the piece work of the 19th century, when workers had no power, no rights, and worked an ungodly amount of hours for almost no pay. Uber drivers, for instance, are expected to provide their own cars, their own insurance, and Uber takes a large percentage of the profits.

And this so called “sharing economy” doesn’t stop there. We’re seeing the same thing happening with Instacart shoppers, Airbnb hosts, and Taskrabbit jobbers. There are even on-demand doctors and attorneys cropping up online. These companies will tout that they’re giving workers the kind of flexibility they want by enabling them to monetize their own downtime. But this so-called downtime is the time that earlier generations spent actually leading their lives. And since the amount of work that’s available in these professions is entirely dependent upon demand, even if you had the time to start a family, financial security in this scenario is something you’d only be able to dream about.

I am happy to report, however, that when it comes to my sister Wendy, she’s turned out to be the exception that proves the rule. As many of you are no doubt aware, about six month ago, she spread her wings and flew away from Neverland towards an amazing opportunity in New York City; she’s now an up-and-comer at a world renowned media outlet called JH Media. I hope you’ll kindly indulge me for a moment as I engage in a bit of shameless promotion on my sister’s behalf. Wendy has a book coming out in the very immediate future, entitled “ASK WENDY! Advice on Life, Love, and Living,” and I urge you to click over to the JH Media site without delay to learn more about it. Her correspondence has, of late, become uncharacteristically sparse, but I can only assume that this is an indication of the breadth of her success!

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Posted in Editorials
Posted on June 10, 2015

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  • 10:00 pmAsk Wendy Live!
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