My name is Jewel Blackfeather. I'm everything your mama warned you about and nothing you want to take home to her: a modern kinda bratling with a penchant for wearing dangerous shoes and talking tons of jive. I wish my stomach were a lily and my tongue a rosepetal. Instead, I am a blur of awkwardness and mussed hair. Eat me up with a spoon (and eat me good). Go ahead and underestimate me. You make me stronger that way. I'll sharpen my teeth on your bones.

I'm a published writer and sometimes feel a little weird discussing my readership or publishing life. You can walk into a major bookstore and find an anthology or magazine with me in it most days. I've interviewed a lot of famous and not-famous folks like Isabel Allende, Ernie Barnes, Noam Chomsky, Fatboy Slim, Janeane Garofalo, Spike Lee, Yoko Ono, and Floria Sigismondi. I get into shows free as a press-person and I've hugged and chatted with Daniel Lanois and Lucinda Williams, exchanged bratty letters with Peter Gabriel, ran away from Tom Green and his camera, and danced drunkenly with Francis Ford Coppola. It sounds like a load of malarkey, but it's all true. Even my parents can't believe the life that I lead. I'm just trying to hang on and enjoy the bedlam that I call home.

 
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