Pen is Mightier than The Sword

Digital Marketing Guy by Day. Struggling Writer by Night. Twitter: @kevinldillon

Like he was screaming out: “I’m not a bad guy!” 

Tender is the Night

Currently reading TENDER IS THE NIGHT (Fitzgerald). There are a few instances when Fitzgerald alludes to alcoholism—both good (?) and bad, And, knowing Fitzgerald, the person and history, some of those sentences read like a defense of being an alcoholic, which certainly adds an interesting element to the novel. 

Fitzgerald = Parts Abe North? 

“The easiest way to appear to be well-read is to socialize exclusively with uncultured cretins, which simply won’t do, so instead you should subscribe to the New York Review of Books and read it religiously, committing to memory one idea from each piece and praying to achieve a casual air when, at a dinner party, fobbing off this insight as your own.”

Advice from Slate on how to appear well-read. (via millionsmillions)

Or, just pick up a fucking book :) 

West of Sunset: Book about Ol' Fitzy »

From the description: “A “rich, sometimes heartbreaking” (Dennis Lehane) novel of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s last years in Hollywood

In 1937, F. Scott Fitzgerald was a troubled, uncertain man whose literary success was long over. In poor health, with his wife consigned to a mental asylum and his finances in ruins, he struggled to make a new start as a screenwriter in Hollywood. By December 1940, he would be dead of a heart  attack.

Those last three years of Fitzgerald’s life, often obscured by the legend of his earlier Jazz Age glamour, are the focus of Stewart O’Nan’s gorgeously and gracefully written novel. With flashbacks to key moments from Fitzgerald’s past, the story follows him as he arrives on the MGM lot, falls in love with brassy gossip columnist Sheilah Graham, begins work on The Last Tycoon, and tries to maintain a semblance of family life with the absent Zelda and daughter, Scottie.

Fitzgerald’s orbit of literary fame and the Golden Age of Hollywood is brought vividly to life through the novel’s romantic cast of characters, from Dorothy Parker and Ernest Hemingway to Humphrey Bogart. A sympathetic and deeply personal portrait of a flawed man who never gave up in the end, even as his every wish and hope seemed thwarted, West of Sunset confirms O’Nan as “possibly our best working novelist” (Salon).”

YES. PLEASE. **checks release date** JANUARY?!?!

This is an old photo of me and my fiancé. (Or is it fiancée?) whatever. It is from college. She’s smiling. 

It’s my favorite. She’s currently in England for a brief study abroad program. 

I miss her.

This is an old photo of me and my fiancé. (Or is it fiancée?) whatever. It is from college. She’s smiling.

It’s my favorite. She’s currently in England for a brief study abroad program.

I miss her.

People of Tumblr. I have a new Twitter account. It is much like the last one. 

@kevinldillon 

Thank you. Back to writing.

And, yes I left off many great women novelists in that last post. Alas, I haven’t read nearly enough novels written by women. I’m starting to correct that with Donna Tartt. 

Joyce Carol Oates is a master of the short story.

I am sitting in my boxers writing, hoping the power doesn’t go out due to these Thor-like t-storms, simultaneously trying to calm my frightened dog, and pithily drinking an energy drink, thinking: Is Donna Tartt the greatest American novelist alive? 

That above question is perhaps  premature given that I’ve only read one of Michael Chabon’s novels, none of James Salter, only one of Tom Perotta’s, two of Franzen’s, 1 of Cormac McCarthy, 1 of Paul Auster, 1 of Don DeLilo. 

Now, that is embarrassing.