Where I Write

Yes, of course, "the writing space"—used to be the Writers Room, now it’s Paragraph on West 14th Street.  My friend Jack, commenting on my first blog, asked why I didn’t find a more congenial place to write, as it seemed like a long bunch of work to get here.  It’s tough, yes. But for me, the quiet sound of other writers’ brains engaged, the quiet tap of computer keys, the occasional muffled cough, all are eager fuel to my fire.

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Guiding the Lost in New York City

Mostly, I’ve given up being helpful. I have stopped trying to guide the lost, with their noses iPhone-glued on street corners, wondering which way the blue dot is trending, because their answer is usually a “no, I’m fine” growl. Me and my machine, we've got it covered. Also men, of course, feel very threatened by a stranger who might suggest their sense of direction is wussy. So I stopped. For the most part.

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