Percival Everett wins the Believer Book Award, for I Am Not Sidney Poitier: “a wickedly funny, stunningly imaginative, and wholly original book that addresses, head-on, sex, racism, religion, and wealth in America.”
Christopher R. Weingarten’s long Spin essay about Lana Del Rey, Cults, and “a multitude of mostly female-led indie heartachers” is one of the best things you’ll read this week. It’s also, as a matter of fact, one of the best multimedia integrations of Spotify I’ve seen in a while. More of this, please.
Kirk Curnutt takes readers on a tour of of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s oft-neglected commercial short fiction. Fitzgerald, after all, “produced 160 short stories [in his life],” writes Curnutt, “earning a total of $241,453 off the genre — more than $3 million in today’s dollars.” Yet the author didn’t think highly of the work, and even referred to himself as an “old whore” because he wouldn’t quit.
Another hip-hip for long-form journalism. George Packer‘s piece in the New Yorker on Richard Holbrooke and the Af-Pak War reminds one that some things — complicated geopolitical matters, for example — must be explored at length. Subscribers can read the full article in the digital edition here. Short of that, read Packer’s assessment of the McChrystal Report on his blog.