My name is Jenny Badman.
I’m a writer, storyteller, strategist, blogger, creative, rabble-rouser. I’m the author of Rants, a book of poetry. Together with a director/actor and a posse of talented actors/friends, I co-produced a play based on my book for Charleston’s Piccolo Spoleto Festival what seems like a hundred years ago.
This is what author/poet Richard Peabody had to say about Rants…and me for that matter:
“If I locked you in a room with Jenny Badman you would: a) understand the English sport of cricket; b) realize that Britney, Mandy, et al., are Tiffany and Debbie Gibson redux; c) fight the urge to pour crème de menthe on your skin; d) get down on all fours and bark like the dog that you are. If I locked you in a room with Jenny Badman’s book of poems you would: a) lock all of your daughters in a convent; b) ingest vast quantities of French toast; c) say 1,000 Hail Marys and whip yourself senseless with brambles; d) quit your boring job and move to Bali. If I locked you in a room where Jenny Badman was performing her poems you would: buy copies of this book and become her disciples, spreading the words of J. Bad girl to far corners of the globe.”
Here’s how my friend/fellow writer Amanda Hollinger described me:
“A Jersey girl who can craft an ad that would make you want to buy a jar of expired mayo, she also has the heart of a poet. Think Don Draper meets Emily Dickinson.”
Here’s me talking about WHY, thanks to the fine folks of Pecha Kucha Charleston:
I was born and bred in Berkeley Heights, New Jersey (exit number upon request). This means I know how to procure a great bagel, a delicious slice and the locations of at least three late night diners within a 10-mile radius. While I have spent more time than I care to admit in traffic on the Turnpike or the Parkway, I can also say that I know the beauty of the Garden State in my bones, from the rolling, verdant hills to that perfect stretch of sand and sea at the end of an old beach road.
I currently reside in Charleston, South Carolina, home to stunning architecture, lilting accents and humidity that’s akin to being wrapped in a hot, wet blanket. Luckily, we also have bourbon and sweet tea. I came here in 2003 in a tiny car jam-packed with most of my worldly possessions. Charleston is a place unlike any other. Being here is a wholly visceral experience. One of the most intense and lovely sensory overloads I’ve ever had. Which makes it a constantly inspiring and surprising place.
In my lucky life, I have had the opportunity to write for and collaborate with some wonderfully talented graphic designers, web experts, marketers, filmmakers and characters. Writing is part and parcel of who I am in this world. This blog is a place to share my work, my thoughts and the people, things and moments that are always far richer than words will allow. But I never stop trying.