Since last Tuesday I’ve seen three shows, one in Boston and two on Broadway, and written the following:
• Two 800-word Wall Street Journal piece that will run on Friday, one of them a review of the shows I saw and the other a “Sightings” column whose subject is the 1955 and 1956 telecasts of Jerome Robbins’ musical version of Peter Pan.
• A 2,500-word review-essay for Commentary on Frank Sinatra.
• A 1,600-word review-essay for National Review on Gore Vidal.
• A 4,000-word lecture called “The Future of Theater” that I’ll be delivering on Wednesday in Lubbock, Texas.
I’m used to working hard, but even for me this was pretty extreme. Fortunately, I don’t have any more copy due until next week, and I have no plans to write between now and then (in part because I have to fly to Texas to give a speech on Wednesday).
On Sunday I rested. I didn’t write a word. Instead I read a book, looked at the art on our walls, listened to Darius Milhaud and William Schuman, watched I Want to Live! and The Third Man, took a walk in the neighborhood, and sent out for sushi.
If you want anything from me this week…you can’t have it.