I read a piece on the Paris Review today which I think is quite apt. It's an interview with John McPhee. I've not read any of his work, but reading this has made me inspired to write again, which is a nice feeling after a three-month stint at the Sunday paper regurgitating press releases and writing drivel about television programmes I haven't watched.
New Journalism sounded like labeling for labeling’s sake. Some of the things were really interesting to read, but there was too much precedent challenging the word new. Anytime I was called a New Journalist I winced a little with embarrassment.
Tom Wolfe helped bring a certain amount of attention to this kind of writing. But he’s just Tom Wolfe. It didn’t happen because one person did it. It happened because a whole bunch of people across a lot of time were interested in making pieces of writing out of factual material that would stand up on their own. They were not just writing articles telling you how to recover from hypothermia.
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