On Being Susan Sontag’s Assistant

So I get this phone call from Ellie, who’s got­ten a call from Jim, who says his friend, a writer, is look­ing for an assis­tant. Ellie asks, “Do you think you’d be inter­ested in work­ing for Susan Sontag?”

I’d recently had a bad expe­ri­ence work­ing for a man whose idea of “assis­tant” was some­one to pick up his dry clean­ing, so my enthu­si­asm for this type of job wasn’t at its peak. But I had just moved to New York and was still try­ing to fig­ure out, at thirty-six, what I wanted to be when I grew up.

“Don’t know, but it should be inter­est­ing to meet her.”

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