We get New York magazine in this house. We love it. We do not get The New Yorker. And let me show you, rather than tell you why:
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Ok, this is annoying, but since I only really have five regular readers and one of them is my husband, I will just email you the article, since it is now behind the New Yorker pay wall. How annoying. (If you want to read the article and I don't email it to you, email me. h a r k i n n a @ h o t m a i l . c o m...without the spaces.)
The bottom line though, is the story is easily 20 pages long and is FRICKEN amazing. I mean, once I started reading it, I could not put it down. I loved it. And here lies the danger: what if stories and articles arrived in my mail box EVERY WEEK that were this good? I would never do anything else. I would have to call off work. I could never keep up. The New Yorker would take over my life.
So, now you know why Brent and I will never be card carrying literati: we just can't handle it.
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2 comments:
read the short story and your blogpost outloud to marika (who was and has been knitting non-stop for the last two weeks, since you got her turned on to that "made by hand" book). loved the article. loved your post.
I subscribe. I have for years. It was my first post-college indulgence - and possibly the reason I have insomnia. How else to make it through every week? (Luckily there are the occasional extremely long political or financial articles that bore me and thus are skipped entirely. Sorry, Brent.) Think of your sacrifice in terms of lifestyle. You need your sleep to be productive enough to enjoy reading selected articles ...
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