12/3/22, 7:30 A.M.
Day 1 of being embedded with the elusive writer monkeys. It ’s magnificent. Monkeys and typewriters as far as the eye can see. What strikes me immediately, though, is the absence of any and all writing. Before arriving, I’d steeled myself for a deafening cacophony of tapping keys, margin bells, and the mechanical slides of carriage-return levers. But so far the only thing I’ve seen typed is “Title TK TK TK,” written by Monkey No. 3566, who then took a break to lie on the rug and listen to a podcast. Will one of these monkeys independently re-create the works of William Shakespeare? Only time will tell. What is immediately clear is that this subspecies of simian has a fondness for vintage shawl-collar sweaters, obscure jazz on vinyl, and packed bookshelves with rolling library ladders.
12/4/22, 10:34 A.M.
My presence is now widely known, and any prior concerns about my being rejected by the group have been quashed. In fact, having learned that I’m not a literary agent or a publisher and that I have no connections in Hollywood, the monkeys have started to ignore me entirely.
12/5/22, 8:30 P.M.
Esta historia es de la edición January 16, 2023 de The New Yorker.
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Esta historia es de la edición January 16, 2023 de The New Yorker.
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YULE RULES
“Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point.”
COLLISION COURSE
In Devika Rege’ first novel, India enters a troubling new era.
NEW CHAPTER
Is the twentieth-century novel a genre unto itself?
STUCK ON YOU
Pain and pleasure at a tattoo convention.
HEAVY SNOW HAN KANG
Kyungha-ya. That was the entirety of Inseon’s message: my name.
REPRISE
Reckoning with Donald Trump's return to power.
WHAT'S YOUR PARENTING-FAILURE STYLE?
Whether you’re horrifying your teen with nauseating sex-ed analogies or watching TikToks while your toddler eats a bagel from the subway floor, face it: you’re flailing in the vast chasm of your child’s relentless needs.
COLOR INSTINCT
Jadé Fadojutimi, a British painter, sees the world through a prism.
THE FAMILY PLAN
The pro-life movement’ new playbook.
President for Sale - A survey of today's political ads.
On a mid-October Sunday not long ago sun high, wind cool-I was in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, for a book festival, and I took a stroll. There were few people on the streets-like the population of a lot of capital cities, Harrisburg's swells on weekdays with lawyers and lobbyists and legislative staffers, and dwindles on the weekends. But, on the façades of small businesses and in the doorways of private homes, I could see evidence of political activity. Across from the sparkling Susquehanna River, there was a row of Democratic lawn signs: Malcolm Kenyatta for auditor general, Bob Casey for U.S. Senate, and, most important, in white letters atop a periwinkle not unlike that of the sky, Kamala Harris for President.
