Megan Halpern, formerly Megan The Publicist, Driving Force Behind The Not-Blog/Blog-Thing, has a new project on Dailylit.com: Authors In The Kitchen. I have contributed in the small way I can, with a recipe for extra-limey gin and tonics and an anecdote about wormy fish.
We’re Working returns. The new season’s inaugural episode features no bathrobes, the return of season one’s favorite un-friend Rafi, a remarkably sober Russel Taylor, and Nathan Lee Graham. We loved Nathan Lee Graham in “The Wild Party,” but now that we know how versatile he is, we are in love with him. Which is to say we are going to stalk him. He is our favorite thing since the Observer’s US Open coverage.
(I don’t know who the first person plural is. It’s just me, Katherine, your host at the Katherine Taylor not-blog/thing. Actually, the not-blog/thing is a real burden. I don’t know how a person keeps this up.)
I watched Episode 9 about 15 times and laughed harder each time.
The US Open, with unflinching commentary brought to you by Katherine Taylor favorites Zachary Woolfe and John Koblin, begins tomorrow.
The cocktails! The sun hats! The backhands and backhanded compliments!
Let’s all spend the next two weeks making comments on Zack Woolfe’s blog posts. I promised him I would try. (Hi, Zack!)
My brother Russel’s epic web series, We’re Working, is on hiatus. That clever young man has escaped all the distractions and temptations of the city and holed himself up in a charming little house in the Cotswolds:
Lucky Russel! I hope he finishes his script before the ceiling falls in.
Our favorite reporter on La Cieca.
Rules For Saying Goodbye, now in Romanian:
Mark Krotov says: ”Their covers are, shall we say, unexpected, but I bet that their prose is as luminous as that of their English-language counterparts. This is probably the best bit of Romanian-related news since THE DEATH OF MR. LAZARESCU, and the construction of this.”
In the absence of updates about my novel (don’t wait for updates), I will update on the career of perennial katherinetaylor.com favorite, Zachary Woolfe. While I can drone on and on about Facebook despair, Zack gets right to the center of American (or global?) narcissism.