Apartment too cramped for a desk? Sick of writing at the kitchen table and having to move your shit to chop onions? Or maybe that’s just my life. But if I weren’t three seconds away from giving up on NYC rents and moving to Jersey City, I’d at least take a trip up to check out the Mercantile Library’s “Writers’ . . .
The Mint Theater Co. will stage Hemingway’s “The Fifth Column” (written while he was a Spanish Civil War correspondent).
My grandmother kept letters documenting the fallout from my grandfather’s affair (with the woman who became his next wife). In this missive (below), he urges my grandmother to leave her parents’ place and come back to him. The language becomes increasingly unhinged and self-pitying; I suspect he was getting progressively shitfaced as he wrote. Some notable passages (typos reproduced from . . .
Page Six says A.M. Homes is developing an “HBO series about the Hamptons — a cross between ‘Desperate Housewives’ and ‘Grapes of Wrath.’”
Being prone to depression and obsessive, cyclical thinking, I have found that focusing too intently — by which I really mean, too emotionally — on the book I’m writing jeopardizes my mental equilibrium. It also clouds my prose and diverts the path of the action, and causes my characters to become inert and maudlin and to spend several paragraphs contemplating . . .