Between college and graduate school, I studied English and American Lit for 10 years. My field was fiction. I devour fiction and also memoirs. Lately, I’ve been reading authors they don’t teach in college, but these authors enrich my life as much as writers I love like Henry James, Joseph Conrad and D.H. Lawrence, and certainly more than James Joyce.

I just finished Harpo Marx’s memoir, “Harpo Speaks.” Lovely book.

I am reading “Act One” by Moss Hart. Great book.

I endlessly read Elmore Leonard, a great prose stylist, maybe better in that department than Saul Bellow who won the Nobel Prize. Leonard wrote a ton of books. I’m sad he didn’t write more.

I am in love with P.G. Wodehouse.

Also in love with John Mortimer who wrote Rumpole of the Bailey.

And I appreciate Herman Wouk, kind of love him, even though he doesn’t have a high literary reputation.

These people never get taught — well, rarely. I don’t understand why. Actualy, I don’t care.

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