Sam Tanenhaus, musing about the New Yorker “young writers” list points out that, far from being a writer’s formative years, many of the great classics in literary history were penned by writers in their 30s, or younger.
Are Young Writers in Their Prime?
“Running a bookstore is a combat sport”
The French are really into bookstores. Like, physical ones.
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The Secret Space of Diaries
For the New Yorker, Morgan Jerkins reviews Helen Oyeyemi’s What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours and considers what keeping a diary means for “a black woman in a white world.”
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Earth’s Song
Recommended Reading: Joseph Fasano's “Coda,” which is The Missouri Review's poem of the week. "Now he is listening for beginning./Now he is lying/among that sinew,/asking, as a boy would, where his song goes."
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Metaphorical Departure
We all spend way too much time in airports this time of year, but Brad Leithauser searched for a metaphor about his journeys through BWI. As he writes for The New Yorker, "There was a piquant pleasure on the night when I first put these two experiences—morning churchgoing, evening airport-going—side by side. I’d been idly and only semi-consciously asking myself what these nocturnal intervals at B.W.I. reminded me of, and now, suddenly, I’d located my metaphor."
“I’m The King of the World!”
David Foster Wallace wrote the best bitter takedown (PDF) of the cruise ship industry ever, but he only had to endure a 7-night vacation. Imagine his horror, then, if he had been forced to spend significant time on The World, a $20,000+/month ship that continuously circumnavigates the world and has permanent passengers in its 165 private residences. For a more detailed glimpse at life on board the ship, check out Anthony Bourdain’s Gourmet piece on his 2003 visit.
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Branching Out
Is it possible to read fiction by an actor without thinking of them as the character that made them famous? It’s a question many people asked when reading James Franco, and it’s a question they’re likely to ask again when reading One More Thing, a new book of short stories by The Office star B. J. Novak. At Open Letters Monthly, Justin Hickey reviews Novak's collection.
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Terrific piece. I wonder whether some of this has to do with a change in how people become writers. Many of the authors in the top 20 have MFAs. So: They get a bachelor’s in something, then they either go into grad school, or perhaps take a few years off to work, then go into grad school. Grad studies are basically a form of apprenticeship. Today’s writer is often in his or her late 20s or 30s before making substantial story/book sales. In olden times (a couple decades or so ago), the person started doing serious writing sooner, I suspect.
I’d prefer the budding writer to spend more of their 20s working shitty jobs, traveling, and otherwise having experiences rather than sitting in more classrooms, no matter how how many encouraging mentors they might collect or however much networking they might do in those programs.
I didnt realize this at all, so from that standpoint the article was pretty eye opening. Authors creative peak mirroring an athletes physical peak, in roughly the same age groups.