"Delay is natural to a writer. He is like a surfer—he bides his time. Waits for the perfect wave on which to ride in. He waits for the surge (of emotion? of strength? of courage?) that will carry him along." (E.B. White, The Paris Review Interviews, 1969)
5.15.2008
It's Out
The email that turned into a mini essay is now online. I think the picture makes me look a bit psycho (there are two other, better, ones in the print magazine). Laura, thanks for giving me a chance to throw some thoughts out there.
4 comments:
Anonymous
said...
It does give the suggestion of a crazy mustache though. I say take it as a sign and grow the crazy mustache for real.
That is Mr. Guthrie. I took it when sport and I went to the Guthrie theater to see The Merchant of Venice. Mr. Guthrie's I-have-my-eye-on-you look certainly heightens the effect. Of course, I always cringe when I see a picture that shows how little of my voice training actually stuck. I wish I could say I was gargling rocks, but alas, it only LOOKS like I'm swishing stones.
4 comments:
It does give the suggestion of a crazy mustache though. I say take it as a sign and grow the crazy mustache for real.
it does have a whiff of the psycho about it. I think it's partly just that other intense guy looking out from behind you....
That is Mr. Guthrie. I took it when sport and I went to the Guthrie theater to see The Merchant of Venice. Mr. Guthrie's I-have-my-eye-on-you look certainly heightens the effect. Of course, I always cringe when I see a picture that shows how little of my voice training actually stuck. I wish I could say I was gargling rocks, but alas, it only LOOKS like I'm swishing stones.
I think it's the writing on your forehead. It'd be even better if, a la Stephenson's Snow Crash, it said "Poor Impulse Control."
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