On James Salter.

Enigmatic—and brilliant—writer James Salter has died. Invariably, the obituaries and online remembrances call him a “writer’s writer” and point to his reverential, if small, following. That is probably true. It’s ironic, then, that Salter’s true gift was how he was able to encompass the entire human experience. A couple years ago I first encountered Salter in reviewing […]

Favorite First Lines.

More prime link bait for me: The Atlantic asked 21 writers to name their favorite opening lines. There are some obvious selections (“Stately, plump Buck Mulligan…”, “Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins.”) and some sneaky good picks (“I have never seen anything like it: two little discs of glass suspended in front […]