Good news New Yorkers: You live 2.4 years longer than other Americans.
“I feel very transparent to myself. I’m more like an observer. I’m interested in what’s going on. I’m not sure that I really have a personality,” Joyce Carol Oates said in The New Yorker’s micro documentary about her writing life and routine. Pair with: our essay on Oates’ The Accursed.
“‘This is a place where people can let their Jane Austen freak flag fly.'” Last weekend, the Jane Austen Society of North America held their annual meeting in New York, attracting fans from all over the country, including Cornel West and Anna Quindlen.
Recommended Reading: Bailey Lewis’s short story at Paper Darts “When the South Wind Blows Glass Shatters and Disappears Like Rain.” “A young girl’s body hurtles through a stationery store window at top speed.”
There’s good news for all of us with embarrassing social media adolescences. After a 34-part, Pulitzer-nominated piece of investigative journalism disappeared from the internet earlier this year, it became clear that nothing on the internet is permanent. Also, don’t blame the internet for your unproductive day–that’s just you.