Richard Grayson

Richard Grayson, a retired lawyer and college professor, is the author of With Hitler in New York (1979), I Brake for ...

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A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Mid-February, 1983

Crad wrote that things are pretty rough in Toronto: The weather has been mild, but people here are shriveled up emotionally. They don’t smile the way they did before Xmas. And down in the financial district, they look really sick, mean and pathetic. I’ve been peddling ‘Hot Financial Stories’ with little success . . . During all of January I made about $129. Sometimes I feel like giving up.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Early February, 1983

Gary is a prude and is worried because Summer used to go out every night after her broken engagement, angrily picking up sailors, seminary students, and assorted Mr. Goodbars. She sounds like a mental basket case. The poor sap – he’s heading for yet another romantic disaster with this woman.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Mid-January, 1983

The Esquire piece on Miami, “The City of the Future,” convinces me that if I don’t get a really good teaching job this year, South Florida is where I’ll stay. Growth will continue as Miami becomes, like New York, a truly international city. There’s still time to get in on the ground floor here.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Early January, 1983

Now that I’ve experienced a loving gay relationship, I feel more alone than I did before I knew what I was missing. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of Sean; I’m surprised how affected I am by losing him. There’s no one I can talk to about it, and my letters to Susan, Stacy and Miriam have all been perfunctory. Denial, mostly.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Late December, 1982

As we got into bed, Sean took off a high school ring and put it on the night table. I asked if it was his, and he said, “No, my boyfriend’s.” Sean never did lie to me, I know that. I always knew he was seeing other guys. I just feel foolish for thinking I was more important in his life than I actually was/am.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Mid-December, 1982

This fall weather reminds me of the rough times I went through breaking up with Shelli and with Ronna; I’m annoyed with myself for being so vulnerable to Sean. Yet I’m also pleased, in a way, for this means I’m not yet dead emotionally – not if I can still feel these crazy feelings about Sean.

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