Jay McInerney
Jay McInerney
John Barrett "Jay" McInerney, Jr.is an American novelist. His novels include Bright Lights, Big City, Ransom, Story of My Life, Brightness Falls, and The Last of the Savages. He edited The Penguin Book of New American Voices, wrote the screenplay for the 1988 film adaptation of Bright Lights, Big City, and co-wrote the screenplay for the television film Gia, which starred Angelina Jolie. He was the wine columnist for House & Garden magazine, and his essays on wine have been...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth13 January 1955
CityHartford, CT
CountryUnited States of America
Most of the people I write about have been ambitious outlanders who have been attracted to New York from other parts of the world.
I don't think I've left a trail of weeping women in my wake. I mean, the number of serious relationships I've had has not been into double digits.
I'm afraid that - not necessarily deliberately, but consistently - I've made a kind of laboratory out of my life, where I mix the stuff in the test tubes to create explosions - possibly resulting in interesting by-products. I mean, not deliberately - I'd be crazy to deliberately do that - or maybe not.
I don't want to have my life fall apart for my work.
I envy those writers who outline their novels, who know where they're going. But I find writing is a process of discovery.
Anybody who becomes a movie star becomes successful at projecting a certain image to the public.
Add anchovies to almost anything, in moderation, and it will taste better.
If it's red, French, costs too much, and tastes like the water that's left in the vase after the flowers have died and rotted, it's probably Burgundy.
There is a shabby nobility in failing all by yourself.
Your presence here is is only a matter of conducting an experiment in limits, reminding yourself of what you aren’t.
You keep thinking that with practice you will eventually get the knack of enjoying superficial encounters, that you will stop looking for the universal solvent, stop grieving. You will learn to compound happiness out of small increments of mindless pleasure.
He insisted on a single trade secret: that you had to survive, find some quiet, and work hard every day.
Delia's arms were inscribed with a grid of self- inflicted wounds, an intricate text of self-loathing
Something changed. Somewhere along the line you stopped accelerating.