In all of the stories that I’ve done, a few stand out as my favorites.
My first story for NPR happened to be about one of my favorite topics: Star Wars. I interviewed stormtrooper reenactors who have very strict rules about what their armor looks like. I learned that if your tube stripes on your armor are one millimeter off, your costume won’t be approved by the group.
While on a reporting trip to Burma, I snuck into a Burmese refugee camp. There I met Thra Per Kaw, the head of a refugee camp school. Per Kaw was one of many Burmese refugees who was given the chance to move out of the camp and resettle in the U.S., but as I described in this story, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go.
I was able to do in depth reporting on the California drought for NPR in this story and this story, and explained a controversial aquaculture project for KPBS and NPR. And I was deeply impressed by the bravery of women I interviewed for this story in Marie Claire.
My story on meditative running was my first published in a national magazine, and it allowed me to both describe the religion I was raised in (Buddhism) and my love-hate relationship with running.
Also, this story about beating my then-boyfriend in a marathon holds a special place in my heart.
My monthly column in San Diego Magazine highlights a trail of the month. It has been a joy to write, and fantastic motivation to keep exploring new running routes.
In my story, The Brain Collector’s Library, I got to meet 92-year-old Bette Ferguson, who has decided to donate her brain to science when she dies. She is one of many subjects filling scientist Jacopo Annese’s library. Annese doesn’t just want the brains of his donors — he wants to know the donors’ identities, too.
I got to write about my two addictions, Twitter and running, in this feature in Runner’s World Magazine.
This story may have been one of the funniest I’ve ever done. It describes an interesting predicament: scientists repeatedly have to stand in front of groups of people and talk, but for many, hardly anything else is as terrifying.
I am pretty sure I have no rhythm. I can’t dance, can’t tap my foot along with a song, and whenever I’m in a gospel-style sing-and-clap situation, I always end up accidentally clapping at the wrong time. For this story, Feeling the Beat, I was able to see scientific proof of my lack of rhythm. I allowed two biologists at the Neurosciences Institute in La Jolla to test my rhythmic abilities. In the end, they concluded I have less rhythm than a cockatoo. Yes, really.
I will forever be proud of this lede in my story about severed feet washing up on West Coast beaches.
And finally, for a list of movies about journalism, or movies whose characters happen to be journalists, look here.