Vernon Downs Read Online Free
Author: Jaime Clarke
Downs would read, rejoiced when it appeared:
Finally a quasi-revealing profile (as much as weâll ever know, Iâll bet) of one of the most talented writers of our time. As a creative-writing student at Glendale Community College, I can say that Mr. Downs is among the most revered authors of my generation, admired for the fluidity of his prose style and his eye for context and detail, which, on the surface, appear ordinary enough but are really, under Mr. Downsâs microscope, threatening and truly unnerving. I quiver with anticipation for the arrival of his latest masterpiece.
âOlivia Simmons, London
The sexual innuendo of the last sentence bothered Charlie like an itch he couldnât reach, but he was more troubled by Oliviaâs identifying herself as a Londoner, a reminder that she was but a provisional visitor who would return to her homeland in a matter of months. He suppressed those emotions and they spent the next few days driving around the metro Phoenix area, buying up copies of
Vanity Fair
.
The idling cab, pulled to the curb at Summit Terrace, was a cocoon: Once Charlie stepped from it, the final act of his plan to win back Olivia would begin. Camden had been a trial runâeveryone in the summer writing program would forever associate him with Vernon Downs and vice versa. The stage was bigger now. How to replicate the effect, he wasnât exactly sure. Oliviaâs wordsââWe canât see each other anymoreââstillrattled him, though increasingly he thought of them as a challenge. Heâd said heâd come the first chance he could, which meant financially, which was easily solved by an afternoon spent filling out preapproved credit card applications offered along with free T-shirts at various tables around campus. As the cards began to appear in the mail, he planned his trip to London and was devastated and confused when his weekly phone call didnât find Olivia at home. When he finally reached her, he wouldnât hang up without an explanation, and Olivia gave him an unbelievable one she had clearly contrived under duress. Perhaps her parents had learned about how sheâd switched enrollment from Arizona State to Glendale Community College and were punishing her.
A desperate scenario in which heâd locate Vernon Downs in New York emerged. What would happen after that was anyoneâs guess, but he let himself be guided by impulse. He charged a one-way trip to New York City and studiously pored over a map on the flight, wondering where along the colored grid heâd find Vernon Downs. He traced the route from LaGuardia into the city so he wouldnât be taken advantage of by the unscrupulous taxi drivers of popular imagination. He laughed now as he remembered the look of surprise on the cabbieâs face when Charlie instructed him to take the Triborough Bridge. He hadnât known that the Triborough was a toll bridge and that the Midtown Tunnel was the faster, free alternative. Other surprises lay in store, like the hotel in Times Square that was really a hostel, necessitating a pair of flip-flops from the corner CVS in order to use the communal shower; and how everything in New York cost at least two dollars more than it did in Phoenix. But the biggest surprise was the absolute lack of any trace of Vernon Downs anywhere in Manhattan. All the articles heâd read had Downs starring in nightly debaucheries, but as Charlie haunted the entrances of bars like Nellâs and Balthazar and clubs like Tunnel and Limelight, he understood that everyone who entered those venues did so seeking debauchery. He stood squinting up at the office of Downsâs literary agent, Daar Baumann,but knew nothing but disappointment awaited inside. Recognizing dead ends was a useful skill heâd developed early on.
The stench of defeat dogged him until a new plan spontaneously emerged, based on a flyer for a summer writing conference at Camden College,
Finally a quasi-revealing profile (as much as weâll ever know, Iâll bet) of one of the most talented writers of our time. As a creative-writing student at Glendale Community College, I can say that Mr. Downs is among the most revered authors of my generation, admired for the fluidity of his prose style and his eye for context and detail, which, on the surface, appear ordinary enough but are really, under Mr. Downsâs microscope, threatening and truly unnerving. I quiver with anticipation for the arrival of his latest masterpiece.
âOlivia Simmons, London
The sexual innuendo of the last sentence bothered Charlie like an itch he couldnât reach, but he was more troubled by Oliviaâs identifying herself as a Londoner, a reminder that she was but a provisional visitor who would return to her homeland in a matter of months. He suppressed those emotions and they spent the next few days driving around the metro Phoenix area, buying up copies of
Vanity Fair
.
The idling cab, pulled to the curb at Summit Terrace, was a cocoon: Once Charlie stepped from it, the final act of his plan to win back Olivia would begin. Camden had been a trial runâeveryone in the summer writing program would forever associate him with Vernon Downs and vice versa. The stage was bigger now. How to replicate the effect, he wasnât exactly sure. Oliviaâs wordsââWe canât see each other anymoreââstillrattled him, though increasingly he thought of them as a challenge. Heâd said heâd come the first chance he could, which meant financially, which was easily solved by an afternoon spent filling out preapproved credit card applications offered along with free T-shirts at various tables around campus. As the cards began to appear in the mail, he planned his trip to London and was devastated and confused when his weekly phone call didnât find Olivia at home. When he finally reached her, he wouldnât hang up without an explanation, and Olivia gave him an unbelievable one she had clearly contrived under duress. Perhaps her parents had learned about how sheâd switched enrollment from Arizona State to Glendale Community College and were punishing her.
A desperate scenario in which heâd locate Vernon Downs in New York emerged. What would happen after that was anyoneâs guess, but he let himself be guided by impulse. He charged a one-way trip to New York City and studiously pored over a map on the flight, wondering where along the colored grid heâd find Vernon Downs. He traced the route from LaGuardia into the city so he wouldnât be taken advantage of by the unscrupulous taxi drivers of popular imagination. He laughed now as he remembered the look of surprise on the cabbieâs face when Charlie instructed him to take the Triborough Bridge. He hadnât known that the Triborough was a toll bridge and that the Midtown Tunnel was the faster, free alternative. Other surprises lay in store, like the hotel in Times Square that was really a hostel, necessitating a pair of flip-flops from the corner CVS in order to use the communal shower; and how everything in New York cost at least two dollars more than it did in Phoenix. But the biggest surprise was the absolute lack of any trace of Vernon Downs anywhere in Manhattan. All the articles heâd read had Downs starring in nightly debaucheries, but as Charlie haunted the entrances of bars like Nellâs and Balthazar and clubs like Tunnel and Limelight, he understood that everyone who entered those venues did so seeking debauchery. He stood squinting up at the office of Downsâs literary agent, Daar Baumann,but knew nothing but disappointment awaited inside. Recognizing dead ends was a useful skill heâd developed early on.
The stench of defeat dogged him until a new plan spontaneously emerged, based on a flyer for a summer writing conference at Camden College,
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