Last night, I attended AIR MAIL’s second annual Tom Wolfe Prizes for Fiction & Reportage at Keens Steakhouse. One of the honorees, Sarah Anderson, a young novelist being recognized for her debut, Fallow, stood up to accept her award and explained that the rollout of her first book had gone rather differently than she’d imagined. She had recently been diagnosed with Stage IV cancer. She then quoted Tom Wolfe quoting Ken Kesey, who once told the author why he’d stopped writing: “I’d rather be a lightning rod than a seismograph.” In other words, he’d rather experience life than merely write about it.
I can’t tell you whether there was a dry eye at Keens, because I couldn’t see through the tears in mine. New York is full of people eager to lecture the rest of us about courage. Last night, I watched someone demonstrate it without having to use the word. Tom Wolfe definitely would have approved. (You can purchase Sarah’s book here.)
And now, back to the considerably less consequential business of RPS. Today’s edition is a high-voltage one, with not one but FOUR stories, because moderation has never been my strong suit.
First, I’ve got a way for you to purchase tickets to a one-night-only political comedy written by Clark Gregg, starring George Clooney, Adam Scott, Laverne Cox, and more this Sunday, for an audience of just 200 people. Then there’s my interview with WSJ. Magazine editor in chief Sarah Ball about the Innovator Awards and what goes into putting together one of New York’s most coveted dinners. I also have an RPS exclusive on the Texas house where Elizabeth Holmes spent the night before going to prison, which has never been featured in any publication and is being seen here for the first time. (Bonus: you can rent it on AirBnb!). And finally, a fireside chat with Ari Ehrlich, whose essay, The Billionaire, The Nepo Baby, and The Collateral Damage, published yesterday on his Substack, Gaytiquette, has been causing quite a stir. The billionaire in question? Amy Griffin.
Lastly, as a fun aside, an RPS subscriber tells me their invitation to JPMorgan Chase’s private members club arrived by hand messenger today. It’s a 3D invitation, much like the elaborate ones JPMorgan sends its private clients for fashion shows. Looks like they may have moved up opening day thanks to my exclusive reporting on the club and its location. You’re welcome.
What are you doing this Sunday night? Because unless George Clooney is coming over to your apartment, I have a better suggestion.
This Sunday, November 1, Clooney, Adam Scott, Laverne Cox, Betty Gilpin, Glenn Fleshler, and Shane Paul McGhie will gather at a still-undisclosed theater in Manhattan for a one-night-only performance of Smear, a new political comedy written and directed by actor Clark Gregg. And when I say one night only, I mean it. The play is getting a single 90-minute reading, in front of an audience of just 200 people. No extended Broadway run. If you’re not in that room on Sunday, you’ve missed it.
The play follows two former lovers turned political operatives battling over a North Carolina congressional seat that could determine the balance of power in a contentious midterm election. The proceeds benefit The States Project and The States Forum, two organizations working on state-level elections and public policy ahead of the midterms. So you can enjoy an amazing evening of theater while contributing to a cause.
Now, a little disclosure: Clark is a friend of mine. You probably know him as Agent Phil Coulson from the Marvel universe, or from last year’s Broadway production of Good Night, and Good Luck, in which he starred alongside Clooney. He’s also a founding member of New York’s Atlantic Theater Company and the screenwriter behind What Lies Beneath. Earlier this year, I saw him play Lord Capulet in Romeo & Juliet, opposite Sadie Sink and Noah Jupe, in London. So I’m particularly excited that his playwriting debut has brought together a cast that would ordinarily require several Hollywood agents and a considerable amount of negotiating.
Tickets are priced at $1,000, and $5,000, which comes with a set of two, VIP seating and an after-party with the cast. (This being New York, people have paid considerably more than $2,500 to be surrounded by considerably less interesting company.) Personally, I think $1,000 for a ticket for something like this is practically a steal considering what Broadway cost these days. And unlike most Broadway productions, this one won’t be around for you to catch next weekend. Let me know if you decide to go. I know a guy who might be able to get you a picture with the playwright.
WSJ. Magazine editor-in-chief Sarah Ball on courting Hollywood and Silicon Valley, the business of making an innovator, and the royal wildcard on her fantasy guest list.
