My admiration for Hendrik Herztberg knows few bounds. But I really wish he’d returned to Rustin at the end, to make clear that he was dealing in two contrasts: a fractious but supportive community and a real leader with a moral message versus a sad, conflicted charlatan.
Looking into Mr. Beyer’s work, I found out that he was one of those Columbia J-school golden children, graduated in 2007 winning every award possible and publishing in the Times while still in RW1 (Reporting and Writing 1).. I also learned that Beyer, whose pieces often adorn the paper’s The City section, had a wonderful affinity for historical material and a tight, elegant prose style. I thought, Oh, OK. He’s good. It might not be the skanky real estate story I’d feared (like this 2005 piece by Patrick Healy, “The Art of Persuading Tenants to Move”)
I may not have the luxury of time that some of my role models had, three years on a dissertation and THEN two years to make it sing (yes, Mr. Moser, yes, Mr. Joseph, I mean you). But by June 30, 2008, all these important and compelling stories, from William Bowser to Ricky Clousing, have to coalesce into a document that speaks to people. Which means, given my penchant for UGLY first drafts, I have to get serious.
Carl raped me one lazy Sunday morning, as I shut myself down rather than wake the landlady’s kids. He turned out to have some other name entirely, which I only learned after I’d made a key for him.
Their story combines elements of better-known sagas like the Hotel Chelsea , with its community of artists, and 47 East 3rd Street, the tenement whose new owners want to turn into a private house.
That God for other wonks who have the patience to deconstruct this. When I saw the item yesterday from the Associated Press, I couldn’t believe it. It’s sort of the opposite of what they taught us in journalism school. I thought the AP, of all things, stuck to actual reporting.
I know rent-seeking is an actual economist’s term, but as a metaphor for what it identifies, I can’t but adore it. (Or maybe I’m just writing too much these days about landlords , most of whom have nothing to do with the term. Except in the Dantean sense.)
I learned while researching another story entirely that W.E.B. Du Bois was arrested for his anti-Korean War activism at age 83.
I’d sworn off blogging after this graphomaniac exercise, but here we are. Today is typical. As I sit here, trying to sort out today’s work, between the transcription I need to finish for next week’s stories at the paper and my trip today to NYPL’s Schomburg Library, news old and new shouts for attention: TheContinue reading “a few notes to start”