Today is Valentine’s Day, so it’s perhaps fitting that in chapter three of my book about Jane Grant, she meets Harold Ross. He becomes her first husband, and together they create The New Yorker. But that comes later.

In this chapter, Jane is overseas with the YMCA in 1918-1919 doing war work. Both adventurous and practical, she couldn’t wait to get to France. She knew that a few female journalists had managed, despite military restrictions, to get across the Atlantic and file stories about World War I. But the New York Times wouldn’t send her as a reporter, so she applied to one of the government-sanctioned service organizations that hired women for clerical work, nursing, and entertainment. Jane figured she was qualified for two out of those three, and she believed that whatever her posting entailed, it would somehow further her career.

[Jane Grant, c. 1918-1919, Jane Grant papers, University of Oregon]

The Y sent Jane to Tours, France, but her friend and colleague from the Times, Alexander Woollcott, pulled strings to get her to Paris. He had been in the army since 1917, and now, as a sergeant, he worked in Paris on the staff of the American Expeditionary Forces’ Stars and Stripes. Jane easily fell in with that newspaper crowd, and it was Woollcott who introduced her to Ross, editor of the publication. It was not love at first sight, but the attraction was strong enough to induce Ross to take a job in New York City after the war to be near Jane.

This chapter revision is ongoing. There is less to weed out, and more to weave in.

What I’m Reading

I started a novel, The Wilderness, by Angela Flournoy. Good so far. I read her first, The Turner House, back in 2016, and I noted this on Goodreads: This is a lovely, lovely novel. Set in contemporary Detroit, it tells the tale of a large family still dealing with the death of the patriarch and with the rapid decline of the matriarch. The fate of the family home, which has fallen into considerable disrepair, is a point of contention among the 13 siblings. And there’s a haint. Wonderful.

I’m continuing with Gertrude Stein: An Afterlife by Francesca Wade and Lorissa Rinehart’s Winning the Earthquake. I can’t renew the Stein biography, so I have to make sure that takes precedence during my reading time. I’m pretty sure the only thing of Stein’s I’ve read is The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas, and probably only selections from it, a long, long time ago. I doubt that I would have much patience for her modern, experimental work.

I finally finished Vanity Fair, and I’m very glad. I’m participating in a Zoom book discussion this coming Wednesday night.

What I’m Watching

Starfleet Academy (Paramount+), Grace (BritBox), All Creatures (PBS), and The Lincoln Lawyer (Netflix) remain in rotation. I still like Grace the best—good storylines and an efficient use of the 90-minute format. I also started The Game, also on BritBox, which has more thriller elements than I like, but the acting is good and there are only four episodes, so I think I can see it through.

What Else I’ve Been Doing

I made progress on my review of a book proposal for an academic press, so I remain on track to meet the deadline.

The weekly bowling took place, the usual two games. Overall, I rolled pretty mediocre. But there was a bright spot: I made three spares in a row, which I kind thought might be referred to as a chicken. It made sense to me since three strikes in a row is a turkey, and I figured a chicken was the next bird down, size-wise. When I finally remembered to look it up, I learned to my absolute delight that three spares in a row are called a sparrow. Perfection!

Happy Valentine’s Day! (to those who celebrate)

Thanks for reading. Check back next week to see how far the chapter three revisions have progressed.