Summary: By day, Christie Maliyackel works for anbsp; health care consulting firm. By night, she's writing a novel called Lucyland. Listen to Christie's perspective on balancing full time work and creative side projects. This is my first in-person interview in quite some timemdash;pardon the background noise from the coffee shop we were in. Update: Christie has been kind enough to share an excerpt of Lucyland with us. Check it out below. October 16 arrived before I knew it. All I know was that come October 15th night, I was scrambling about, trying to locate my only business suit (that I was hoping still fit seeing as how I had last worn it about a year and a half ago) and shove it into my suitcase, while simultaneously hoping it wouldnrsquo;t wrinkle by tomorrow morning. But here I was! SFO International Airport! As I meandered through the hustle and bustle of the standard airport crowds, I couldnrsquo;t help looking around and simply beaming. San Francisco, here I am!! I wanted to shout to the world. I spotted a bathroom virtually instantaneously and eagerly made myself comfortable in the spacious handicapped stall so that I would have ample room for changing. Talk about a transformation in the course of seven minutes: ghetto, sweatshirted Lucy gone business professional. Okay, so a quick glance in the mirror showed a few slight wrinkles in my business suit jacket but nothing TOO noticeable (or so I hoped). Oh well, it was too late now. I had no iron nor any other suits, and my interview was in exactly one hour and twenty-seven minuteshellip; yikes! Was that right? A double-take of my watch showed that, of course, that was the case. Oh God. Seeing as how I had never been to San Francisco, let alone traversed from SFO to San Franciscorsquo;s financial district (by cab, no less), I had no idea how long the journey would take. I mean, first therersquo;s just snagging a cab (I had a feeling the line waiting for a cab would be endless, given my luck), then the ride itself (complete with the probability of hitting traffic along the way)hellip; these were the train wreck of thoughts flying through my head as I hurriedly powdered on some foundation (which, Irsquo;m not going to lie, wasnrsquo;t even the exact same color as my skin! Apparently I had acquired a slight tan in the last year or so, which was the last time that I think I even used this makeup stuff) and frantically tried to smooth out one stubbornly blatant wrinkle on my jacket. Life is filled with tradeoffs though (see? I was already thinking like a businessperson!). So, I just hastily shoveled my makeup bag back into my suitcase and scurried along to the cab line, my face a couple shades paler than normal thanks to that darn foundation. Thankfully, the line was only five people deep with a seemingly endless line of waiting cabs so I was able to snag one pretty darn quickly. I couldnrsquo;t believe how friendly even the cab drivers were! I mean, New York cab drivers are notorious for many thingshellip; general courtesy is certainly not one of them. Ah, Spencer. My new favorite cab driver. The little man even verified my destination three times, before actually pulling out of the airport holding area. I settled back into my seat, pulling out my little portfolio complete with multiple resumes, legal paper (on which to take notes from my interview), and even a pen (God, Irsquo;ve become an interview pro, if I do say so myself!). I opened my portfolio to re-examine the activities Irsquo;d highlighted on my resume, but before I could get too far, Spencerrsquo;s curiosity got the better of him. ldquo;So, first time visiting?rdquo; he caught my eye through his rearview mirror. ldquo;Yup! Irsquo;m actually here for a job interview,rdquo; I replied, gesturing at my portfolio in my lap. ldquo;Oh, very nice, very nice,rdquo; Spencer commented. I looked back down at my resume, trying to recall the details behind my Ohio State mentoring program. It wa...
