Why you should let this comic book writer inspire you to be more productive, using text messages.

People are always looking for that "one weird trick" that will rocket them to success.

Life hacks are up there with cats and reaction GIFs on the list of Things the Internet Loves. Everybody's eager to find that perfect shortcut for living a full, productive life without actually doing anything. There are probably more Super Clever How-To Guides for Being Awesome online than there are people in the world. Which kinda makes sense when you think about it: We still haven't found the One True Way to Do Things Better/Stronger/Faster, so we have to keep hunting for the next best option.

(Unless someone has figured it out, and they're just not telling us. In which case, not cool.)


But if there's anyone who knows how to get sh*t done, it's comic book writer (and certified BAMF) Kelly Sue DeConnick.

Kelly Sue is probably best known for her work on Marvel's "Captain Marvel" comic book, which inspired a rabid legion of fans calling themselves "The Carol Corps" after the main character, Carol Danvers. DeConnick also writes the death western "Pretty Deadly" and the femmesploitation prison book "Bitch Planet" while running a film/TV production company with her husband (and fellow comic book writer) Matt Fraction and raising two adorably weird kids (plus she invented the "Sexy Lamp Test," which is kinda like the Bechdel Test only better). "Vanity Fair" calls her "The Future of Women in Comics."

So basically, she's got a lot on her plate. But somehow, she gets it all done and still has time to engage with fans on Twitter and Tumblr.


Kelly Sue (kneeling, center) with a few members of the Carol Corps. Photo via Flickr.

DeConnick has also volunteered to be your very own personal life coach/motivational speaker (via text message).

You don't have to follow Kelly Sue's 3 a.m. to 8 p.m. daily schedule to be productive.

All you need to do is text @bitchesg to (971) 244.8342, and Kelly Sue will send you a daily dose of how-to hints and motivational ass-kickery.

She calls it B*tches Get Sh*t Done because as Tina Fey and Amy Poehler famously declared, women who are often considered such tend to also be renowned for their remarkable levels of productivity. Translation:

Of course, they had to censor themselves for NBC (Kelly Sue has no such qualms). GIF from "Saturday Night Live."

Kelly Sue launched B*tches Get Sh*t Done in January 2014. She was mostly just messing around after hearing about an SMS subscription service called Remind which allows teachers to mass-text their students with reminders and assignments (which, to me, sounds absolutely horrible). In this case, Kelly Sue is the teacher, and the 2,000 people who subscribe to the service are her productivity disciples.

Kelly Sue being infinitely more productive than you. Photo by Terra Clarke Olsen/Flickr.

So no, sadly, you're not the only one she's texting (sorry). But there's something about that little message that feels remarkably personal — moreso than, say, an email, or even a social media feed that you have to manually scroll through. When you hear that little ping in the middle of the day (or in my case, that R2-D2 bleep-bloop) signifying a new text, it's almost like Auntie Kelly Sue is looking over your shoulder and reminding you that you're awesome and that you're doing a good job but that seriously you need to get to work.

B*tches Get Sh*t Done might not change your life, but it will nag you with positivity until your sh*t gets done.

B*tches Get Sh*t Done's daily inspiration comes in many different forms. But perhaps what's best about it is that it doesn't pretend to be some deep, profound revelation that will change your life. It's a friendly, positive reminder that the best way to get sh*t done is to, well, get sh*t done.

Here are a few of my favorites, courtesy of the BGSD Tumblr archive:

http://bgsd-archive.tumblr.com/post/110652616978/being-uncomfortable-is-a-reasonable-price-to-pay

http://bgsd-archive.tumblr.com/post/110735923974/stop-for-a-sec-find-a-mirror-tent-your-fingers

http://bgsd-archive.tumblr.com/post/109790123084/someone-somewhere-is-playing-eye-of-the-tiger

http://bgsd-archive.tumblr.com/post/113204411771/itll-go-better-tomorrow-bgsd

http://bgsd-archive.tumblr.com/post/125526503433/12-of-sharks-glow-not-sure-why-i-find-that

http://bgsd-archive.tumblr.com/post/126442172306/overwhelmed-1-thing-at-a-time-small-bites

http://bgsd-archive.tumblr.com/post/126350499906/bitches-get-shit-d-monday-fresh-start-clean

At the end of the day, it's still up you to make sh*t happen. Still, sometimes it helps to have a swift kick in the app.

(That app being Messages. See what I did there?)

To me, the best part about BGSD is the fact that there's no new age-y mantra about it. It's a refreshingly realistic approach that's obvious and yet so easy to forget: You get sh*t done by doing sh*t, so stop searching for shortcuts and just do the sh*t.

That's why it's nice to be reminded every now and then and to have someone else tell you that you're on the right path but that also maybe it would help if you went for a walk or wrote out your to-do list and actually stuck to it this time and made sure to really cross things off as you go and also don't forget that thing that you've been putting off but really need to do!

I could keep going, but what's the point? I got sh*t that needs doin'! (Like filing this story, for example.)

Kelly Sue being more effing metal than you. Photo by Pat Loika/Flickr (text added).

Since his first hit single "Keep Your Head Up" in 2011, award-winning multi-platinum recording artist Andy Grammer has made a name for himself as the king of the feel-good anthem. From "Good to Be Alive (Hallelujah)" to "Honey, I'm Good" to "Back Home" and more, his positive, upbeat songs have blared on beaches and at backyard barbecues every summer.

So what does a singer who loves to perform in front of live audiences and is known for uplifting music do during an unexpectedly challenging year of global pandemic lockdown?

He goes inward.

Grammer told Upworthy that losing the ability to perform during the pandemic forced him to look at where his self-worth came from. "I thought I would have scored better, to be honest," he says. "Like, 'Oh, I get it from all the important, right places!' And then it's taken all away in one moment, and you're like, 'Oh, nope, I was getting a lot from that.'

"It's kind of cool to break all the way down and then hopefully put myself back together in a way that's a little more solid," he says.

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Since his first hit single "Keep Your Head Up" in 2011, award-winning multi-platinum recording artist Andy Grammer has made a name for himself as the king of the feel-good anthem. From "Good to Be Alive (Hallelujah)" to "Honey, I'm Good" to "Back Home" and more, his positive, upbeat songs have blared on beaches and at backyard barbecues every summer.

So what does a singer who loves to perform in front of live audiences and is known for uplifting music do during an unexpectedly challenging year of global pandemic lockdown?

He goes inward.

Grammer told Upworthy that losing the ability to perform during the pandemic forced him to look at where his self-worth came from. "I thought I would have scored better, to be honest," he says. "Like, 'Oh, I get it from all the important, right places!' And then it's taken all away in one moment, and you're like, 'Oh, nope, I was getting a lot from that.'

"It's kind of cool to break all the way down and then hopefully put myself back together in a way that's a little more solid," he says.

Keep Reading Show less
True

Each year, an estimated 1.8 million people in the United States are affected by cancer — most commonly cancers of the breast, lung, prostate, and blood cancers such as leukemia. While not everyone overcomes the disease, thanks to science, more people are surviving — and for longer — than ever before in history.

We asked three people whose lives have been impacted by cancer to share their stories – how their lives were changed by the disease, and how they're using that experience to change the future of cancer treatments with the hope that ultimately, in the fight against cancer, science will win. Here's what they had to say.

Celine Ryan, 55, engineer database programmer and mother of five from Detroit, MI

Photo courtesy of Celine Ryan

In September 2013, Celine Ryan woke up from a colonoscopy to some traumatic news. Her gastroenterologist showed her a picture of the cancerous mass they found during the procedure.

Ryan and her husband, Patrick, had scheduled a colonoscopy after discovering some unusual bleeding, so the suspicion she could have cancer was already there. Neither of them, however, were quite prepared for the results to be positive -- or for the treatment to begin so soon. Just two days after learning the news, Ryan had surgery to remove the tumor, part of her bladder, and 17 cancerous lymph nodes. Chemotherapy and radiation soon followed.

Ryan's treatment was rigorous – but in December 2014, she got the devastating news that the cancer, once confined to her colon, had spread to her lungs. Her prognosis, they said, was likely terminal.

But rather than give up hope, Ryan sought support from online research, fellow cancer patients and survivors, and her medical team. When she brought up immunotherapy to her oncologist, he quickly agreed it was the best course of action. Ryan's cancer, like a majority of colon and pancreatic cancers, had been caused by a defect on the gene KRAS, which can result in a very aggressive cancer that is virtually "undruggable." According to the medical literature, the relatively smooth protein structure of the KRAS gene meant that designing inhibitors to bind to surface grooves and treat the cancer has been historically difficult. Through her support systems, Ryan discovered an experimental immunotherapy trial at the National Institutes of Health (NIH) in Bethesda, MD., and called them immediately to see if she was eligible. After months of trying to determine whether she was a suitable candidate for the experimental treatment, Ryan was finally accepted.

The treatment, known as tumor-infiltrating lymphocyte therapy, or TIL, is a testament to how far modern science has evolved. With this therapy, doctors remove a tumor and harvest special immune cells that are found naturally in the tumor. Doctors then grow the cells in a lab over the next several weeks with a protein that promotes rapid TIL growth – and once the cells number into the billions, they are infused back into the patient's body to fight the cancer. On April 1, 2015, Ryan had her tumor removed at the NIH. Two months later, she went inpatient for four weeks to have the team "wash out" her immune system with chemotherapy and infuse the cells – all 148 billion of them – back into her body.

Six weeks after the infusion, Ryan and Patrick went back for a follow-up appointment – and the news they got was stunning: Not only had no new tumors developed, but the six existing tumors in her lungs had shrunk significantly. Less than a year after her cell infusion, in April 2016, the doctors told Ryan news that would have been impossible just a decade earlier: Thanks to the cell infusion, Ryan was now considered NED – no evaluable disease. Her body was cancer-free.

Ryan is still NED today and continuing annual follow-up appointments at the NIH, experiencing things she never dreamed she'd be able to live to see, such as her children's high school and college graduations. She's also donating her blood and cells to the NIH to help them research other potential cancer treatments. "It was an honor to do so," Ryan said of her experience. "I'm just thrilled, and I hope my experience can help a lot more people."

Patrice Lee, PhD, VP of Pharmacology, Toxicology and Exploratory Development at Pfizer

Photo courtesy of Patrice Lee

Patrice Lee got into scientific research in an unconventional way – through the late ocean explorer Jacques Cousteau.

Lee never met Cousteau but her dreams of working with him one day led her to pursue a career in science. Initially, Lee completed an undergraduate degree in marine biology; eventually, her interests changed and she decided to get a dual doctoral degree in physiology and toxicology at Duke University. She now works at Pfizer's R&D site in Boulder, CO (formerly Array BioPharma), leading a group of scientists who determine the safety and efficacy of new oncology drugs.

"Scientists focused on drug discovery and development in the pharmaceutical industry are deeply committed to inventing new therapies to meet unmet needs," Lee says, describing her field of work. "We're driven to achieve new medicines and vaccines as quickly as possible without sacrificing safety."

Among the drugs Lee has helped develop during her career, including cancer therapies, she says around a dozen are currently in development, while nine have received FDA approval — an incredible accomplishment as many scientists spend their careers without seeing their drug make it to market. Lee's team is particularly interested in therapies for brain metastases — something that Lee says is a largely unmet need in cancer research, and something her team is working on from a variety of angles. "Now that we've had rapid success with mRNA vaccine technology, we hope to explore what the future holds when applying this technology to cancers," Lee says.

But while evaluating potential cancer therapies is a professional passion of Lee's, it's also a mission that's deeply personal. "I'm also a breast cancer survivor," she says. "So I've been on the other side of things and have participated in a clinical trial."

However, seeing how melanoma therapies that she helped develop have affected other real-life cancer patients, she says, has been a highlight of her career. "We had one therapy that was approved for patients with BRAF-mutant metastatic melanoma," Lee recalls. "Our team in Boulder was graced by a visit from a patient that had benefited from these drugs that we developed. It was a very special moment for the entire team."

None of these therapies would be available, Lee says without rigorous science behind it: "Facts come from good science. Facts will drive the development of new drugs, and that's what will help patients."

Chiuying "Cynthia" Kuk (they/them) MS, 34, third-year medical student at Michigan State University College of Human Medicine

Photo courtesy of Cynthia Kuk

Cynthia Kuk was just 10 years old when they had a conversation that would change their life forever.

"My mother, who worked as a translator for the government at the time, had been diagnosed with breast cancer, and after her chemotherapy treatments she would get really sick," Kuk, who uses they/them pronouns, recalls. "When I asked my dad why mom was puking so much, he said it was because of the medicine she was taking that would help her get better."

Kuk's response was immediate: "That's so stupid! Why would a medicine make you feel worse instead of better? When I'm older, I want to create medicine that won't make people sick like that."

Nine years later, Kuk traveled from their native Hong Kong to the United States to do exactly that. Kuk enrolled in a small, liberal arts college for their Bachelor's degree, and then four years later started a PhD program in cancer research. Although Kuk's mother was in remission from her cancer at the time, Kuk's goal was the same as it had been as a 10-year-old watching her suffer through chemotherapy: to design a better cancer treatment, and change the landscape of cancer research forever.

Since then, Kuk's mission has changed slightly.

"My mom's cancer relapsed in 2008, and she ended up passing away about five years after that," Kuk says. "After my mom died, I started having this sense of urgency. Cancer research is such that you work for twenty years, and at the end of it you might have a fancy medication that could help people, but I wanted to help people now." With their mother still at the forefront of their mind, Kuk decided to quit their PhD program and enter medical school.

Now, Kuk plans to pursue a career in emergency medicine – not only because they are drawn to the excitement of the emergency room, but because the ER is a place where the most marginalized people tend to seek care.

"I have a special interest in the LGBTQ+ population, as I identify as queer and nonbinary," says Kuk. "A lot of people in this community and other marginalized communities access care through the ER and also tend to avoid medical care since there is a history of mistreatment and judgement from healthcare workers. How you carry yourself as a doctor, your compassion, that can make a huge difference in someone's care."

In addition to making a difference in the lives of LGBTQ+ patients, Kuk wants to make a difference in the lives of patients with cancer as well, like their mother had.

"We've diagnosed patients in the Emergency Department with cancer before," Kuk says. "I can't make cancer good news but how you deliver bad news and the compassion you show could make a world of difference to that patient and their family."

During their training, Kuk advocates for patients by delivering compassionate and inclusive care, whether they happen to have cancer or not. In addition to emphasizing their patient's pronouns and chosen names, they ask for inclusive social and sexual histories as well as using gender neutral language. In doing this, they hope to make medicine as a whole more accessible for people who have been historically pushed aside.

"I'm just one person, and I can't force everyone to respect you, if you're marginalized," Kuk says. "But I do want to push for a culture where people appreciate others who are different from them."