What to read

The two blogs I follow closely (Instapundit, Althouse) linked yesterday to posts about and by Elizabeth Wurtzel. Elizabeth Wurtzel. Should I know that name? Wikipedia says she is a "writer and journalist known for her work in the confessional memoir genre." Oh, that genre.

Her most famous confessional memoir is Prozac Nation, published when she was 26. From the Wiki bibliography, it looks like she had enough confessions to fill three memoirs by the time she was 34.

Bah, bah, black sheep, have you any wool?
Yes, sir, yes, sir, three memoirs full.

Oh, wait, Bitch is essays about a lot of difficult women, not just her. So maybe her third memoir is this reflective essay in New York Magazine about the sad state of her life at 44.
It isn’t just creative types, also public­-interest lawyers and public-­intellectual academics and political thinkers—collectively, the professional class. In a city, these are the people who make the place vital and fun. They work hard but still have time to try a no-­reservations restaurant on the Lower East Side or to check out the small boutiques in Nolita and help interesting young designers get off to a start. Mostly, they make six-figure incomes and somehow manage. And they are happy for the privilege.

But these are people who soon won’t exist anymore. Soon New York will be nothing but a metropolis of the very rich and those who serve them—and the lucky and desperate still hanging on. All of the fun jobs are disappearing. 
Even with her mundane "coffee and paprika biscuits in bed on Wednesday mornings," Elizabeth Wurtzel is something else. Her self-pitying essay is interesting in a poor-little-rich-poor-girl kind of way. But, honestly, if you want a could-not-put-it-down story, read "The Innocent Man," by Pamela Colloff.

"The Innocent Man" is a brief look at 25 years in the life of Michael Morton, who was wrongfully convicted of the murder of his wife and who was released from prison through the work of The Innocence Project. Someone else has been charged with the murder of Christine Morton and of another Austin, Texas, woman -- Debra Masters Baker -- who was beaten to death 18 months after Mrs. Morton.

"Brief" in the case of Colloff's articles equals 41 pages of absolutely gripping writing that appeared in two parts in Texas Monthly.