This week's New Yorker arrived yesterday afternoon & I've yet to read it but I loved the cover! That's no surprise but when it's related to books, writing or publishing, it really grabs me. I like that it tells the story of a story not just a book. From the first frame where the writer is diligently typing on her laptop in her mod digs as snow wafts down outside her window to the final frame where another winter's snow falls lightly in an alley surrounding the homeless seeking warmth.
I think it also makes a larger statement. Everyone finds utility in the life of the story. The writer writes. The agent pimps. The publisher publishes. The printer prints. The bookseller sells. The reader buys, reads & ultimately recycles. The homeless repurposes.
A fine idea to ponder as I read my magazine later over a latte & watch as the storm moves through the region while sleet falls & ice forms on inanimate objects outside... some of whom are people.