A summer quickie

What I have been working on and thinking about

I am home at my desk (dining room table) on a perfect Saturday afternoon in late July, when a normal person might be at the beach or in a park or otherwise enjoying smoke-free, low-humidity outdoor air. In a few weeks, the long-awaited Bourdain biopic, Tony, will hit theaters. Bon Appetit asked me to write about it, first in a profile of actor Dominic Sessa, who plays a version of Tony at 19 years old, and then in a forthcoming essay (maybe later this week, not sure) in which I’ll talk about the defensive grief crouch of some folks declaring, based on little more than the trailer, that “Tony would’ve hated it.” I’m also doing a thing about it (TK!) for the Times of London.

(Photo by OK McCausland for Bon Appetit)

Over at Flaming Hydra, I wrote about a 26-year old memoir of heroin addiction, but also about nostalgia and grief (again) along with the super-timely trio of Gordon Lightfoot, Rudy Giuliani and James Frey (FMK?). Flaming Hydra is a collective of 60 writers who produce a daily newsletter covering politics, arts, fiction, comics, culture, food, science and whatever else moves us. Check out these unpaywalled stories and, if you like it, then subscribe for just $3/month.

For The Small Bow, I’ve got two interviews in the works, both with chefs who have gotten sober and continued to thrive in an industry known for being a booze-soaked bar rag. Their stories are different from each other and I can’t wait to share them.

In less than a month, my only child is starting college in a place not easily served by trains, so my never-owned-a-car self is going to get familiar with being a long-distance bus rider, about which I am weirdly excited (but check back with me the first time I miss my bus because I didn’t arrive in time and couldn’t find my gate at the hellishly large and unfriendly Port Authority Bus Terminal). A friend suggested buying two seat on every long-distance bus ride, to guarantee oneself a bit of space. I love it in theory but wonder what happens when you’re challenged?

(My kid eating tres leches cake 14 years ago; I’m sure it was hard for me to put my own spoon down long enough to take the photo)

On September 15 I’m speaking at the Everson Museum in Syracuse, NY, at an event organized by Central Current, an excellent news alternative to the once-mighty Syracuse Post-Standard and Herald-Journal (which merged decades ago and are now maybe collectively called Syracuse dot com, publishing a physical paper like three days/week, which is all too grim to contemplate). No link yet; it’s a free event but I believe pre-registration is required.

Later in September I’ll teach a four-day memoir workshop for Bog & Thunder, in West Cork, Ireland. We still have a few spots left; love to meet you there if it’s in your wheelhouse and your budget. I’m tentatively planning to start an online workshop in early 2027, so if you can’t swing a week in Ireland (and believe me, I get it), stay tuned for details on a virtual workshop with plenty of opportunity for feedback and editing.

One-percent-fat cottage cheese is like eating packing materials, even if it’s Friendship in the red container. Caramel cold brew-flavored M&Ms are shockingly delicious.

About a month ago the comic Josh Gondelman shared the following sentiment on social media and I can’t stop thinking about it: “I know this is not the biggest concern going these days, but it stresses me out that basically every artist/writer/critic is now expected to create their own tiny empire instead of getting paid by any existing entity to perform a job they’ve worked to get good at!!!!” (And yes I recognize the irony of sharing this on a micro-monetizable platform like substack.) I don’t have an answer for this problem, but I do enjoy hearing the hosts discuss just this issue on No Country for Old Women, a podcast hosted by Jenn Romolini and Kimberly Harrington. They make the specific existential despair of the creative working class somehow very funny.

That’s it, that’s the update.