Free Although Of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself by David Lipsky

to money. But you know what I mean? So, see me in a year. Y’know, if a year from now—like, if I have a bunch of conversations, like with this guy Silverblatt [Michael Silverblatt, host of NPR’s
Bookworm
], or with Vince Passaro, or with like David Gates, somebody who clearly read the book closely. Um, and a bunch of people are saying it’s good, then I’m probably gonna start feeling wholeheartedly good about the book. As it is, there’s a kind of creeping feeling of a kind of misunderstanding.
    And an amused … a kind of amused attempt to separate what’s good, what of the fuss has to do with the book, and what of the fuss has to do with the sort of enormous engine, um,
started
by Little, Brown. But now clearly seems to be humming in and of itself. Y’know, when somebody asked somebody in New York, had they read Martin Amis’s
The Information
, the person answered, “Well, not personally.” Right? That—you know.
    That’s actually an old joke. My mom heard it about students at Stanford in the
’
80s. “Have you read Madame Bovary?” “Well, not personally.” What does it mean to you?
    This machine that has you out here, asking about my reaction to a phenomenon that consists largely of your being out here. Which of course won’t get said in the essay. But, I mean, it’s all very strange.
    I love this song. “Magic Bus.” The Who
.
    This is one of the few songs of theirs I like. I never liked the Who very much.
    Literary heavyweights: You and them at Yaddo …
    Yeah, and me feelin’ jealous of them. And feeling like I wanted to be regarded the way they were regarded. And uh … what was our point?
    And now you’re them?
    Yeah. It’s weird, man. I can’t help you out. It doesn’t (“dudn’t”) feel like anything. It makes me glad I’m not twenty-five anymore. I feel a certain irony in—when I was twenty-five, I think I would’ve given a couple of digits off my non-use hand for this. And now: it’s nice, it’s nice. But I’ll tell you, man, I couldn’t’ve finished the book if I’d wanted this. You know what I mean? I really got into it. I don’t think I’m the most talented person on the planet, but I work
really
hard, you know? And part of what’s really hard is I work really hard at getting better at stuff, you know? I mean like …
    You became a better stylist?
    I think I work harder now. I think—I don’t know what you were like. I think when I was twenty-two or twenty-three, I pretty much thought every sentence that came off my pen was great. And couldn’t
stand
the idea that it wasn’t. Because then you’ve disintegrated—you know, you’re either great or you’re terrible. And now I just, I think I’m just—yeah, I know this is gonna sound drippy and PC. I’m just,I’m really into the
work
now. I mean it’s really—and I feel good about this. Because, you know, we wanna be doing this for forty more years, you know? And so I’ve gotta find some way to enjoy this that doesn’t involve getting
eaten
by it, so that I’m gonna be able to go do something else. Because bein’ thirty-four, sitting alone in a room with a piece of paper is what’s real to me. This (points at table, tape, me) is
nice
, but this is not real. Y’know what I mean?
    [Long silence]
    Let’s be aware; we have to get up at about five. I mean I’ll talk to you all you want—I just, if I get four hours of sleep tonight, I’m gonna be in real bad shape tomorrow. I learned that the hard way.
    You’ve talked about both strands: obviously, the first strand, where you know it was really good, won out, or you wouldn’t have finished the book, right?
    No. The way to finish the book is to turn down the volume on the stuff that’s all about how other people react. You know?
    But there’s a certain halfway point where you bottom out on that stuff, and then you become like a stranger brought in by the studio to wrap things up? I’ve always seen it as, you start a project as David Lean, or Francis