Saturday, September 17, 2005


This is such a good idea: you’re a writer, adrift in the big city. Or your apartment’s in a mess, or full of people, or there’s a building site down the road that’s giving you some disturbance. Or you just need somewhere else to write.

So, providing you have things to work on and can stump up a few hundred dollars, pop to West 14th Street in New York, enter your PIN number on the door and walk into Paragraph, a writers’ space with a fireplace, a library and a kitchen where you can store your food.

It’s like a hotel for the creative mind. No sleazy assignations, mind.

If I could, I’d open one here called Line, and it’d have an ashtray as well. Heh.

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