Harvey Breit, February 11, 1964: Difference between revisions
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::::::::::::::::::::February 11, 1964 | ::::::::::::::::::::February 11, 1964 | ||
Dear Harvey,<ref> | Dear Harvey,<ref>Mailer became friendly with [[w:Harvey Breit|Harvey Breit]], a reporter and novelist who spent summers on Cape Cod. Breit profiled him in the ''New York Times'' in June 1951.</ref> | ||
Just a note. I’ve been down in the mines working on my novel, five installments now done, three to go—mortal terror all around that I will run out of gas. I must say, each installment gets worse than the one before. Then when I finish, there’s a snow bank of letters around, all the mail that’s accumulated during the month. So I send this off to you in the ill humor of being written out, smoked out, hung over, and in a bitch of a mood about the novel. But I write to you anyway because I wanted to say hello and tell you that we miss you and hope you’ll be back soon. | Just a note. I’ve been down in the mines working on my novel, five installments now done, three to go—mortal terror all around that I will run out of gas. I must say, each installment gets worse than the one before. Then when I finish, there’s a snow bank of letters around, all the mail that’s accumulated during the month. So I send this off to you in the ill humor of being written out, smoked out, hung over, and in a bitch of a mood about the novel. But I write to you anyway because I wanted to say hello and tell you that we miss you and hope you’ll be back soon. | ||
Outside of work everything’s going along fairly well and New York seems quiet. I hope Mrs. Lowry’s agreeable. | Outside of work everything’s going along fairly well and New York seems quiet. I hope Mrs. Lowry’s agreeable. | ||
::::::::::::::::::::Salud,<br /> | |||
::::::::::::::::::::Norman | |||
{{Letterhead end}} | {{Letterhead end}} | ||
Latest revision as of 17:51, 6 April 2019
| NORMAN MAILER’s Letters |
- 142 Columbia Heights
- Brooklyn 1, New York
- February 11, 1964
- 142 Columbia Heights
Dear Harvey,[1]
Just a note. I’ve been down in the mines working on my novel, five installments now done, three to go—mortal terror all around that I will run out of gas. I must say, each installment gets worse than the one before. Then when I finish, there’s a snow bank of letters around, all the mail that’s accumulated during the month. So I send this off to you in the ill humor of being written out, smoked out, hung over, and in a bitch of a mood about the novel. But I write to you anyway because I wanted to say hello and tell you that we miss you and hope you’ll be back soon.
Outside of work everything’s going along fairly well and New York seems quiet. I hope Mrs. Lowry’s agreeable.
- Salud,
- Norman
- Salud,
This page is part of
An American Dream Expanded.
An American Dream Expanded.
Notes
- ↑ Mailer became friendly with Harvey Breit, a reporter and novelist who spent summers on Cape Cod. Breit profiled him in the New York Times in June 1951.
