that he could barely concentrate on his in…class lectures; let alone his
extracurricular literary ambitions。
But in the last twelve evenings; as he actually sat down in front of the
office…model Underwood he had borrowed from the main office downstairs; the
roadblock had disappeared under his fingers as magically as cotton candy
dissolves on the lips。 He had e up almost effortlessly with the insights into
Denkers character that had always been lacking; and he had rewritten most of
the second act accordingly; making it revolve around the new scene。 And the
progress of the third act; which he had been turning over in his mind when the
wasp put an end to cogitation; was ing clearer all the time。 He thought he
could rough it out in two weeks; and have a clean copy of the whole damned play
by New Years。
He had an agent in New York; a tough red…headed woman named Phyllis Sandler
who smoked Herbert Tareytons; drank Jim Beam from a paper cup; and thought the
literary sun rose and set on Sean OCasey。 She had marketed three of Jacks
short stories; including the Esquire piece。 He had written her about the play;
which was called The Little School; describing the basic conflict between
Denker; a gifted student who had failed into being the brutal and brutalizing
headmaster of a turn…of…the…century New England prep school; and Gary Benson;
the student he sees as a younger version of himself。 Phyllis had written back
expressing interest and admonishing him to read OCasey before sitting down to
it。 She had written again earlier that year asking where the hell was the play?
He had written back wryly that The Little School had been indefinitely — and
perhaps infinitely — delayed between hand and page 〃in that interesting
intellectual Gobi known as the writers block。〃 Now it looked as if she might
actually get the play。 Whether or not it was any good or if it would ever see
actual production was another matter。 And he didnt seem to care a great deal
about those things。 He felt in a way that the play itself; the whole thing; was
the roadblock; a colossal symbol of the bad years at Stovington Prep; the
marriage he had almost totaled like a nutty kid behind th
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