Mamet at the Diner

This is sort of about the playwright, but also not at all about him.

Something I spend too much time thinking about is the cover of David Mamet’s 1986 essay collection Writing in Restaurants. Not because it’s necessarily good—because, spoiler, it’s really not. It’s a book that drives me nuts and I’ve tried to sit down with it more than a few times, and each time I do I realize that the only reason it exists is that 1. It…