A few months ago The New Yorker ran a profile of James Salter, a writer who, according to a recent review in The New York Review of Books, constantly had his stories rejected by The New Yorker. Writers take heart: They may think you unworthy today, but years from now they’ll want to run 5,000 words on your life and work.
Newspapers do a consistently excellent job of making me thankful I no longer work for one. Sunday, the Herald's Travel section had "staycations" as its theme.
The article on Holiday in the current Vanity Fair tells of an age when you could have a grand time putting out a great magazine.
I've been watching reruns of The Sopranos. Last night was the episode in which Uncle Junior is sitting in front of the set when Larry David and Jeff Garlin appear and, confused, he wonders what he and Bobby are doing on TV.