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Wendy and the Lost Boys: The Uncommon Life of Wendy Wasserstein
The authorized biography of Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Wendy Wasserstein.
In Wendy and the Lost Boys bestselling author Julie Salamon explores the life of playwright Wendy Wasserstein's most expertly crafted herself. The first woman playwright to win a Tony Award, Wendy Wasserstein was a Broadway titan. But with her high- pitched giggle and unkempt curls, she projected an image of warmth and familiarity. Everyone knew Wendy Wasserstein. Or thought they did.
Born on October 18, 1950, in Brooklyn, New York, to Polish Jewish immigrant parents, Wendy was the youngest of Lola and Morris Wasserstein's five children. Lola had big dreams for her children. They didn't Sandra, Wendy's glamorous sister, became a high- ranking corporate executive at a time when Fortune 500 companies were an impenetrable boys club. Their brother Bruce became a billionaire superstar of the investment banking world. Yet behind the family's remarkable success was a fiercely guarded world of private tragedies.
Wendy perfected the family art of secrecy while cultivating a densely populated inner circle. Her friends included theater elite such as playwright Christopher Durang, Lincoln Center Artistic Director André Bishop, former New York Times theater critic Frank Rich, and countless others.
And still almost no one knew that Wendy was pregnant when, at age forty-eight, she was rushed to Mount Sinai Hospital to deliver Lucy Jane three months premature. The paternity of her daughter remains a mystery. At the time of Wendy's tragically early death less than six years later, very few were aware that she was gravely ill. The cherished confidante to so many, Wendy privately endured her greatest heartbreaks alone.
In Wendy and the Lost Boys , Salamon assembles the fractured pieces, revealing Wendy in full. Though she lived an uncommon life, she spoke to a generation of women during an era of vast change. Revisiting Wendy's works- The Heidi Chronicles and others-we see Wendy in the free space of the theater, where her many selves all found voice. Here Wendy spoke in the most intimate of terms about everything that matters family and love, dreams and devastation. And that is the Wendy of Neverland, the Wendy who will never grow old.
In Wendy and the Lost Boys bestselling author Julie Salamon explores the life of playwright Wendy Wasserstein's most expertly crafted herself. The first woman playwright to win a Tony Award, Wendy Wasserstein was a Broadway titan. But with her high- pitched giggle and unkempt curls, she projected an image of warmth and familiarity. Everyone knew Wendy Wasserstein. Or thought they did.
Born on October 18, 1950, in Brooklyn, New York, to Polish Jewish immigrant parents, Wendy was the youngest of Lola and Morris Wasserstein's five children. Lola had big dreams for her children. They didn't Sandra, Wendy's glamorous sister, became a high- ranking corporate executive at a time when Fortune 500 companies were an impenetrable boys club. Their brother Bruce became a billionaire superstar of the investment banking world. Yet behind the family's remarkable success was a fiercely guarded world of private tragedies.
Wendy perfected the family art of secrecy while cultivating a densely populated inner circle. Her friends included theater elite such as playwright Christopher Durang, Lincoln Center Artistic Director André Bishop, former New York Times theater critic Frank Rich, and countless others.
And still almost no one knew that Wendy was pregnant when, at age forty-eight, she was rushed to Mount Sinai Hospital to deliver Lucy Jane three months premature. The paternity of her daughter remains a mystery. At the time of Wendy's tragically early death less than six years later, very few were aware that she was gravely ill. The cherished confidante to so many, Wendy privately endured her greatest heartbreaks alone.
In Wendy and the Lost Boys , Salamon assembles the fractured pieces, revealing Wendy in full. Though she lived an uncommon life, she spoke to a generation of women during an era of vast change. Revisiting Wendy's works- The Heidi Chronicles and others-we see Wendy in the free space of the theater, where her many selves all found voice. Here Wendy spoke in the most intimate of terms about everything that matters family and love, dreams and devastation. And that is the Wendy of Neverland, the Wendy who will never grow old.
461 pages, Hardcover
First published August 18, 2011
56 people are currently reading
976 people want to read
About the author
Julie Salamon
20 books93 followersJulie Salamon has written thirteen books in many genres, including Unlikely Friends, an Audible Original released summer 2021. Her new children's book One More Story, Tata, illustrated by Jill Weber, was published by Astra's Minerva imprint in July 2024. She is working on a nonfiction book for Ann Godoff at The Penguin Press, that involves the crisis of urban homelessness and its intersection with history. Julie's other books include New York Times bestsellers Wendy and the Lost Boys and The Christmas Tree (illustrated by Jill Weber) as well as Hospital, The Devil’s Candy, Facing the Wind , The Net of Dreams , Innocent Bystander and Rambam’s Ladder. She has written two children's books, Mutt's Promise, and Cat in the City, also illustrated by Jill Weber. Julie was a reporter and then the film critic for The Wall Street Journal and then a television critic and reporter on the staff of the New York Times. Julie is a graduate of Tufts University and New York University School of Law. She is chair of the BRC, a social services organization in New York City that provides care for people who are homeless and may suffer from addiction or mental disease.. Born in Cincinnati and raised in Seaman, Ohio, a rural town of 800; in 2008 she was inducted into the Ohio Women’s Hall of Fame. New York City has long been home; she lives in downtown Manhattan with her husband Bill Abrams, executive director of Trickle Up. They have two children, Roxie and Eli, and a dog named Frankie, most recent in a long line of feline and canine friends.
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October 23, 2011
4 ½ stars, ½ star off because of the lack of humor within these pages
I’m completely wrung out after reading this book, and felt that way during my entire reading of it. More on that later.
But first: This is an excellent book. It’s well written and fascinating. It is exactly what a biography should be. It looks as though it would have been great fun to research and write, as the author interviewed so many family members, friends, acquaintances of her subject, as well as made use of written records, to get as full a picture as possible of the woman. Brilliant and tragic and captivating.
The only negative of the book (from an objective view; there were plenty for me subjectively) is that given how funny Wasserstein was, and that’s commented on a lot in these pages, this book isn’t funny, at least not to me. It didn’t make me laugh or smile in amusement. I would have liked some humor in the telling. For a book about a woman with a fabulous sense of humor, the lack of humor in the book was striking.
For me, I felt depressed and infuriated as I read and as I think about Wasserstein’s life. It wrung me out and was a emotionally difficult read for me.
Wasserstein was three years older than I, and I recognized the era, and I was familiar with some of Wasserstein’s work. This (wonderful) birthday gift book brought back many of my memories from over the years (it was hard for me not to think of exactly what I was doing and feeling as each time period was discussed.)
I actually took a short break from reading this book to read a children’s novel about the Holocaust to cheer me up; that’s how depressing this book felt for me.
Because of all the people Wasserstein knew, the whole book could seem like one long name dropping document, but this was her life and it’s a valid account of her life.
Upsetting to read about (for me) were these people who were ultra wealthy, family members who were close knit but in a dysfunctional way, successful and famous and spoiled and selfish people, yet somehow many times very endearing, but the most infuriating and sad aspect for me was what I consider to be the psychopathic secrecy and denial that Wendy grew up with and mightily perpetuated, and I was especially outraged for Lucy Jane. (I’m “allergic” to such lies given my own background, and it was unpleasant for me to read how the Wasserstein family and Wendy functioned.)
I’ve had this author’s book Hospital: Man Woman Birth Death Infinity, Plus Red Tape, Bad Behavior, Money, God, and Diversity on Steroids on my to-read list forever; I really want to get to it; she’s a fabulous writer and non-fiction storyteller.
I’m completely wrung out after reading this book, and felt that way during my entire reading of it. More on that later.
But first: This is an excellent book. It’s well written and fascinating. It is exactly what a biography should be. It looks as though it would have been great fun to research and write, as the author interviewed so many family members, friends, acquaintances of her subject, as well as made use of written records, to get as full a picture as possible of the woman. Brilliant and tragic and captivating.
The only negative of the book (from an objective view; there were plenty for me subjectively) is that given how funny Wasserstein was, and that’s commented on a lot in these pages, this book isn’t funny, at least not to me. It didn’t make me laugh or smile in amusement. I would have liked some humor in the telling. For a book about a woman with a fabulous sense of humor, the lack of humor in the book was striking.
For me, I felt depressed and infuriated as I read and as I think about Wasserstein’s life. It wrung me out and was a emotionally difficult read for me.
Wasserstein was three years older than I, and I recognized the era, and I was familiar with some of Wasserstein’s work. This (wonderful) birthday gift book brought back many of my memories from over the years (it was hard for me not to think of exactly what I was doing and feeling as each time period was discussed.)
I actually took a short break from reading this book to read a children’s novel about the Holocaust to cheer me up; that’s how depressing this book felt for me.
Because of all the people Wasserstein knew, the whole book could seem like one long name dropping document, but this was her life and it’s a valid account of her life.
Upsetting to read about (for me) were these people who were ultra wealthy, family members who were close knit but in a dysfunctional way, successful and famous and spoiled and selfish people, yet somehow many times very endearing, but the most infuriating and sad aspect for me was what I consider to be the psychopathic secrecy and denial that Wendy grew up with and mightily perpetuated, and I was especially outraged for Lucy Jane. (I’m “allergic” to such lies given my own background, and it was unpleasant for me to read how the Wasserstein family and Wendy functioned.)
I’ve had this author’s book Hospital: Man Woman Birth Death Infinity, Plus Red Tape, Bad Behavior, Money, God, and Diversity on Steroids on my to-read list forever; I really want to get to it; she’s a fabulous writer and non-fiction storyteller.
January 13, 2012
I started by skimming this book, and then I half decided I wouldn't bother reading the whole thing. Then I started it this morning and couldn't put it down. How lucky for Miss Wendy to grow up in the lap of privilege which sure doesn't hurt when you want to pursue a career in the arts. That and having a brother who is rich as Croesus. The children were sickly, for the most part: an elder sister died of brain cancer, an even older brother had been spirited off as a child with alleged retardation. Wendy died of varied forms of leukemia, and her brother died of a heart attack. To my knowledge that leaves one sister left.
I identified so much with the decades of growing and development. The confused role for women in college in the sixties. I watched an interview on You Tube with one of her Mount Holyoke classmates, and she was recalling (and this is so true,) of how hard it was to graduate then with all of the upheaval on campus and in life. She didn't spell it out, but she didn't have to--for me. Riots, constant cultural change, having to evacuate classrooms due to bomb scares (that happened more than you would believe.) Then you were dumped into that world and to do what?
The author, Julie Salamon, wrote some beautifully constructed sentences that could have been out of Edith Wharton's New York. Describing a summer weekend on Nantucket with (the Washington Post) Graham's, and the snafus over dinner plans, Salamon writes, "She kept changing the date for her Nantucket visit. This was of consequence in a milieu where social arrangements were handled with the kind of nervous attention usually reserved for matters involving delicate international diplomacy. Chance was not a welcome guest at the table." You could have ripped that passage out of "The Age of Innocence."
...and her final words on Wendy's life and legacy, "Until the end, Wendy Wasserstein took comfort in being part of a larger entity, the self-defined generation that had created a unified consciousness from a mass-marketed set of cultural references. Among Wendy's last works was an essay called "Baby Boomers," published in "The World Almanac and Book of Facts 2004," in which she addressed the hubris of the Peter Pan generation.
"The thing about being a baby boomer is, somewhere we still believe that no one is going to do it better than we did," she wrote. "No one will be better than the Beatles, no one will be more glamorous than Jack Kennedy, no time will be as turbulent as the late '60's, no parents will be a s difficult as ours were, and no psyches will be as interesting as ours."
She continued to aim for immortality, even as she mocked her own desire. "Because boomers came of age in a world fascinated by them, and partially created for them, we are often not the most cooperative when it comes to aging," she wrote. "We are, in fact, at the forefront of not just aging gracefully at all. Against all odds, we will hold back the hands of time."
As Wendy wrote those words, she must have sensed that the clock was ticking, she was already desperately ill. She never grew old, but she lived long enough to watch her generation begin to fossilize, guarding it's accumulated memories and possessions, asserting it historical preeminence as fiercely as every generation that had come before. Even as a child, it seems, she had understood that all relationships, ambitions, politics, hopes, worries, pains, ruminations, and dramatizations could command passionate attention one day and then vanish the next. Every bright, shining beacon would be extinguished and replaced, the same as tyrants and fools. But she was a gentle social critic, clarifying the pretensions of her peers and expressing frustration at their hypocrisies and self-deceptions while showing tender appreciation for their frailities and conveying genuine empathy for the desire and uncertainty that made them human. That was her gift to the world she tried to make her own."
I identified so much with the decades of growing and development. The confused role for women in college in the sixties. I watched an interview on You Tube with one of her Mount Holyoke classmates, and she was recalling (and this is so true,) of how hard it was to graduate then with all of the upheaval on campus and in life. She didn't spell it out, but she didn't have to--for me. Riots, constant cultural change, having to evacuate classrooms due to bomb scares (that happened more than you would believe.) Then you were dumped into that world and to do what?
The author, Julie Salamon, wrote some beautifully constructed sentences that could have been out of Edith Wharton's New York. Describing a summer weekend on Nantucket with (the Washington Post) Graham's, and the snafus over dinner plans, Salamon writes, "She kept changing the date for her Nantucket visit. This was of consequence in a milieu where social arrangements were handled with the kind of nervous attention usually reserved for matters involving delicate international diplomacy. Chance was not a welcome guest at the table." You could have ripped that passage out of "The Age of Innocence."
...and her final words on Wendy's life and legacy, "Until the end, Wendy Wasserstein took comfort in being part of a larger entity, the self-defined generation that had created a unified consciousness from a mass-marketed set of cultural references. Among Wendy's last works was an essay called "Baby Boomers," published in "The World Almanac and Book of Facts 2004," in which she addressed the hubris of the Peter Pan generation.
"The thing about being a baby boomer is, somewhere we still believe that no one is going to do it better than we did," she wrote. "No one will be better than the Beatles, no one will be more glamorous than Jack Kennedy, no time will be as turbulent as the late '60's, no parents will be a s difficult as ours were, and no psyches will be as interesting as ours."
She continued to aim for immortality, even as she mocked her own desire. "Because boomers came of age in a world fascinated by them, and partially created for them, we are often not the most cooperative when it comes to aging," she wrote. "We are, in fact, at the forefront of not just aging gracefully at all. Against all odds, we will hold back the hands of time."
As Wendy wrote those words, she must have sensed that the clock was ticking, she was already desperately ill. She never grew old, but she lived long enough to watch her generation begin to fossilize, guarding it's accumulated memories and possessions, asserting it historical preeminence as fiercely as every generation that had come before. Even as a child, it seems, she had understood that all relationships, ambitions, politics, hopes, worries, pains, ruminations, and dramatizations could command passionate attention one day and then vanish the next. Every bright, shining beacon would be extinguished and replaced, the same as tyrants and fools. But she was a gentle social critic, clarifying the pretensions of her peers and expressing frustration at their hypocrisies and self-deceptions while showing tender appreciation for their frailities and conveying genuine empathy for the desire and uncertainty that made them human. That was her gift to the world she tried to make her own."
November 4, 2011
I thoroughly enjoyed reading about the life of playwright Wendy Wasserstein who died in 2006 at the age of 55. I knew Wasserstein through her plays -- which were all about personal identity and relationships, and so well reflected the Boomer generation -- and her New Yorker articles. This narrative chronicles her life -- from her childhood in a family of Jewish immigrant parents to her undergraduate years at Mt. Holyoke and her graduate studies at Yale Drama School, through struggles and successes as a playwright. The revealing story of her family and its dynamics is fascinating as is the portrayal of the New York theater world whose inhabitants became her extended family. The books does a fine job of introducing readers to her family and friends and re-creating the world in which she lived.
January 16, 2016
Not gonna lie - when I reached the end of the book I felt like crying. I guess it was because the book made me feel like I really knew who Wendy Wasserstein was, her funny and bubbly personality shine through the pages and her admirable resilience is awe inspiring. The book was really fantastic and I wish Wendy Wasserstein was still with us today to spoil us with her endless wit or flash a great smile at us.
April 16, 2021
Wendy Wasserstein, Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright of The Heidi Chronicles, had a seemingly charmed life—she came from a well-off family, she attended Mount Holyoke and Yale School of Drama, and she had several successful plays. What Julie Salamon reveals in her biography of the playwright, however, is the inner pain and complexity that Wasserstein kept hidden from her friends and collaborators—all the way up until her untimely death from cancer at age fifty-five.
Born in 1950 to an upper middle class Brooklyn family, Wendy was one of five siblings, two of whom were extremely successful in business and Wall Street. Their indomitable mother would praise her children to friends, but behind closed doors, would often be highly critical of her children, creating an awkward Inferior-Superior dichotomy. This would follow Wendy for the rest of her creative career, as well as the generation she came to represent. In plays such as Uncommon Women and Others and the aforementioned Heidi Chronicles, Wasserstein explored the place of women in the generation of the women’s movement, and interrogate how much the women’s movement did on behalf of women as a whole.
Salamon writes with clear-eyed empathy and insight not just into the deceptively complex psychology of Wasserstein, but also the theatre of her generation. Wendy’s circle consisted of influential playwrights like Christopher Durang and Terrence McNally and artistic directors like Andre Bishop. For theatre fans, WENDY AND THE LOST BOYS is also a great portrait of a generation of playwrights and directors who were grappling with the expectations of their parents’ generation, and how they failed to measure up to them. Salamon manages to dive beyond the glittering surface of New York City’s theatre scene in the 1980s, crafting a simultaneously glamorous and enlightening read.
A must-read for fans of contemporary theatre, WENDY AND THE LOST BOYS is a compelling, brilliant portrayal of a playwright who hid much of her pain behind a veneer of fun and joy.
Born in 1950 to an upper middle class Brooklyn family, Wendy was one of five siblings, two of whom were extremely successful in business and Wall Street. Their indomitable mother would praise her children to friends, but behind closed doors, would often be highly critical of her children, creating an awkward Inferior-Superior dichotomy. This would follow Wendy for the rest of her creative career, as well as the generation she came to represent. In plays such as Uncommon Women and Others and the aforementioned Heidi Chronicles, Wasserstein explored the place of women in the generation of the women’s movement, and interrogate how much the women’s movement did on behalf of women as a whole.
Salamon writes with clear-eyed empathy and insight not just into the deceptively complex psychology of Wasserstein, but also the theatre of her generation. Wendy’s circle consisted of influential playwrights like Christopher Durang and Terrence McNally and artistic directors like Andre Bishop. For theatre fans, WENDY AND THE LOST BOYS is also a great portrait of a generation of playwrights and directors who were grappling with the expectations of their parents’ generation, and how they failed to measure up to them. Salamon manages to dive beyond the glittering surface of New York City’s theatre scene in the 1980s, crafting a simultaneously glamorous and enlightening read.
A must-read for fans of contemporary theatre, WENDY AND THE LOST BOYS is a compelling, brilliant portrayal of a playwright who hid much of her pain behind a veneer of fun and joy.
November 4, 2011
I am madly in love with Wendy Wasserstein in that oh-em-gee-your-plays-rock-my-world kind of way, so reading Wendy and the Lost Boys by Julie Salamon was a no-brainer. I should give you a bit of background first...
About six months ago I realized that I was seeing a lot of shows but not reading many plays, so I took it upon myself to start reading one play a week to pick up on a large chunk of work that I was unfamiliar with. To simplify my process, I choose one playwright at a time and read their whole cannon before proceeding, and I am working on alternating males and females while mixing up race as well. I started with August Wilson's Century Cycle, then moved on to Wendy Wasserstein since the theatre I work for had a long-standing relationship with her, and my boss knew her well. I thought it was appropriate. (I know you don't care, but I am on Harold Pinter right now. What this means is, you would have an additional book review each week if I were reviewing the plays--but I digress.)
I fell in love with Wendy and her characters. I relate to her work and I am moved by seeing her in all of her characters--the search for oneself and the longing for the unattainably perfect life we were told we could have, or, even worse, the life our parents want us to have without regard for what we want. Wendy and I might be separated by a few decades in age, but I relate to her work so deeply. Reading Wendy and the Lost Boys was an incredibly enjoyable experience.
On top of getting down and dirty with Wendy's family (what a clan!), this book also added another chapter to the "History of Off-Broadway" cannon. You can't have a history of Off-Broadway without a history of it's people, and this book is no exception. It joins Free For All: Joe Papp, The Public, and The Greatest Theater Story Ever Told by Kenneth Turan and Joseph Papp as one of my favorite theatre history books.
I have no doubt that there are some inaccuracies as people claim--Wendy passed away over 5 years ago and was an incredibly private person anyhow when alive--but I appreciate the story as a whole and love the tribute that this book is to her and to her work, the work that I admire so deeply.
http://sassypeachreads.blogspot.com
About six months ago I realized that I was seeing a lot of shows but not reading many plays, so I took it upon myself to start reading one play a week to pick up on a large chunk of work that I was unfamiliar with. To simplify my process, I choose one playwright at a time and read their whole cannon before proceeding, and I am working on alternating males and females while mixing up race as well. I started with August Wilson's Century Cycle, then moved on to Wendy Wasserstein since the theatre I work for had a long-standing relationship with her, and my boss knew her well. I thought it was appropriate. (I know you don't care, but I am on Harold Pinter right now. What this means is, you would have an additional book review each week if I were reviewing the plays--but I digress.)
I fell in love with Wendy and her characters. I relate to her work and I am moved by seeing her in all of her characters--the search for oneself and the longing for the unattainably perfect life we were told we could have, or, even worse, the life our parents want us to have without regard for what we want. Wendy and I might be separated by a few decades in age, but I relate to her work so deeply. Reading Wendy and the Lost Boys was an incredibly enjoyable experience.
On top of getting down and dirty with Wendy's family (what a clan!), this book also added another chapter to the "History of Off-Broadway" cannon. You can't have a history of Off-Broadway without a history of it's people, and this book is no exception. It joins Free For All: Joe Papp, The Public, and The Greatest Theater Story Ever Told by Kenneth Turan and Joseph Papp as one of my favorite theatre history books.
I have no doubt that there are some inaccuracies as people claim--Wendy passed away over 5 years ago and was an incredibly private person anyhow when alive--but I appreciate the story as a whole and love the tribute that this book is to her and to her work, the work that I admire so deeply.
http://sassypeachreads.blogspot.com
December 31, 2011
I was a huge fan of Wendy Wasserstein. I saw the Heidi Chronicles on Broadway with my four best high school chums shortly after we graduated from college. I also saw the Sisters Rosenzweig some time later. I studied her plays for acting class. I met her briefly a couple of times, and yes, she did look homeless. I also had the occasion to meet Bruce several times. And boy, was Salomon's take on him pitch perfect.
I say all of this as a sort of disclaimer (and I am a huge name dropper!!) because I felt as if I knew Wendy when I was reading the book. I lapped up every word. I love reading about people who choose an artistic life when that is something so obviously not encourage in their family. I loved reading about Wendy and Meryl Streep and Terrance McNally and Christopher Durang in their early careers. I loved reading about Wendy's struggle with intimacy and romance, evidenced by her incredibly close relationships with gay men who would never want to touch her and her less close relationships with straight men who so clearly wanted to marry her. Salomon does a brilliant job of Weaving Wendy's personal life with her subject matter. I was hooked.
It would be hard for me to recommend this book to somebody who has never seen her plays. But if you have, read the book. It is not without flaws. I still have so many questions about this woman. And, I saw some other reviews that complained that the book was not funny. Wendy was funny. why wasn't the book? I somewhat agree that her humor wasn't displayed enough in this work, but ultimately, her life wasn't that hilarious. Meryl Streep, who seems normal to me, , characterized her as lonely and sad.
I say all of this as a sort of disclaimer (and I am a huge name dropper!!) because I felt as if I knew Wendy when I was reading the book. I lapped up every word. I love reading about people who choose an artistic life when that is something so obviously not encourage in their family. I loved reading about Wendy and Meryl Streep and Terrance McNally and Christopher Durang in their early careers. I loved reading about Wendy's struggle with intimacy and romance, evidenced by her incredibly close relationships with gay men who would never want to touch her and her less close relationships with straight men who so clearly wanted to marry her. Salomon does a brilliant job of Weaving Wendy's personal life with her subject matter. I was hooked.
It would be hard for me to recommend this book to somebody who has never seen her plays. But if you have, read the book. It is not without flaws. I still have so many questions about this woman. And, I saw some other reviews that complained that the book was not funny. Wendy was funny. why wasn't the book? I somewhat agree that her humor wasn't displayed enough in this work, but ultimately, her life wasn't that hilarious. Meryl Streep, who seems normal to me, , characterized her as lonely and sad.
December 4, 2018
A friend, who called it "a page-turner," gave me this book. We both worked on the Playwrights Horizons production of "Isn't It Romantic," and also with many of the theatre people who populate the book, so for us, it definitely was. Contrasting the private Wasserstein with the public Wasserstein, the book reveals an ambitious, talented, driven, social woman who defied uppercrust conventions in her appearance, but was buffeted about privately by traditional societal expectations of family life and stalked by tragedy. It does not sufficiently convey how funny she could be. The quote most interesting to me was from John Lyons, the one-time literary manager, who said that if Playwrights had received blind submissions of a Noel Coward play and a Sam Shepard play, the Noel Coward would be the one that would have been produced. Aha! The rich and privileged do think different from you and me.
October 27, 2012
Note: after the first 3 paragraphs below (written immediately upon completing the book), find the review I wrote for the Washtenaw Jewish News.
I loved this book. I never much liked Wasserstein's plays, but I thought that she herself was an intriguing personality. Julie Salamon, whose writing I've long admired, is a consummate journalist and biographer: thorough, thoughtful, and sensitive and lyrical. Like Wendy Wasserstein, Salamon is Jewish, and her Jewishness subtly informs this biography. While Salamon is never overtly judgmental, her sturdy spine and her clear, however tacit, notions of right and wrong are in evidence - through the quotations she chooses to include. (Someone refers to WW as "selfish." One wonders whether Salamon agrees, though JS is careful about including so many other descriptions, including those of WW's generosity.) I had the feeling, through much of the book, that Salamon's view of WW was similar to my own. But at the end, Salamon seems to bestow weight to Wasserstein's writing - to the plays as well as to the many essays and longer prose pieces. (I wondered, though, whether it is Salamon's critical acuity that adds heft to WW's writings. WW picked up the tenor of the times, partly through uncanny powers of recall, which allowed her to use (exploit?) ancient conversations (and confidences) almost verbatim. WW's unique set of neuroses somehow allowed her to mimic the tropes of her generation, which she does with her pitch-perfect memory for dialogue. This was often discomfiting to her characters' real-life prototypes. (Her brother's wife divorced him after seeing herself parodied in one of WW's plays. Old confidantes shut their doors against WW after seeing themselves aped. Even I was discomfited by the evident exploitation.) But WW was also enormously generous. Examples abound. Salamon also explores the "lost boys" of Wendy's life, including a brother who was ill and put away, only to be discovered in middle age by his astounded siblings. But "lost boys" also refers to the legion of gay men who were WW's bosom buddies. She referred to many of them as "my husbands." One of them published a book called "Diary of a Lost Boy." Others referred to Wendy as the one who will not grow up; who tells stories to her lost boys.
Salamon's book unfolds as life itself unfolds. There are no preambles, no presaging passages, no unwarranted philosophizing or speculations. Salamon simply lets her subject's life speak for itself. Days whirl into the months and years of WW's ambitious, frenetic, drive. To see the way the Wasserstein siblings morphed into variants of their feared and formidable mother gives one pause. I still don't like Wasserstein's plays, but now I'm willing to give them another look. Truth to tell, I always thought I had more playwriting talent than WW. It's been hard to get over the fact people like WW, who went to the proper summer camp for successful playwrights (Yale Drama School), and who knew how to make the most of their contacts, succeeded in the theatre world. I never figured out how to parlay my many playwriting prizes into a career. (I once asked Richard Gilman why he included a certain vapid play in his short list of Broadway plays to see during a time of "decadence" on B'way. "Oh," Gilman said, "the author was a student of mine at Yale." Steam came out of my ears.
I had a brilliant friend who was Wasserstein's chum at Yale. His assessment of his friend: "There's no one funnier as a dinner companion. But she can't write a play to save her soul." His assessment of WW's plays felt like a vindication of my own harsh view of her work. It also fired the curiosity I have long felt about the person behind the plays. Thank you, Julie Salamon, for pulling the playwright from behind the wings!
REVIEW FOR THE WASHTENAW JEWISH NEWS:
Wendy Wasserstein, who died of cancer at age 55, was the first female playwright to win a Tony Award. She won it for The Heidi Chronicles in 1989. The play earned her the Pulitzer Prize that same year. She was 39. Today she is the subject of Julie Salamon’s elegant page-turner, Wendy and the Lost Boys: the uncommon life of Wendy Wasserstein.
Julie Salamon captures Wasserstein in all her bubbly, clever, neurotic, smiling, ambitious, conflicted, witty, and determined complexity. The youngest of five children, Wasserstein looked to family for comfort and closeness, though she never satisfied her mother’s wish that she slim down, marry, and have children. When she won the Pulitzer, her mother, Lola, gushed to friends and family: “Wendy won the Nobel Prize!” adding, “I’d be just as happy if she brought home a husband.” Nine years later, at age 48, Wasserstein gave birth to a daughter, Lucy, having kept her pregnancy secret from her mother and almost everyone else. The child’s paternity remains a mystery.
Salamon herself grew up amid family secrets. At age 10, for instance, she learned from cousins that her father had been married before, and that his wife and daughter were killed in Auschwitz. Salamon has spent her career uncovering secrets, and the secrets she exposes in this book have surprised even people who knew Wasserstein well. Many reported to Salamon that they never saw beneath Wasserstein’s sunny façade. They were aware of her wit, moxie, drive and devotion to family. They knew her warmth and immediacy, her ability to make them laugh, especially when she recapitulated conversations almost verbatim. But they were unaware of her deep-rooted sense of insecurity, of the store of zealously guarded family secrets, and of her relentless but futile drive to please her mother. Salamon allows her subject’s life to unfold without preamble or speculation, and she holds us in thrall as we watch Wendy and her siblings morph inexorably into variants of their feared, formidable, and secretive mother. But this mother managed to raise four ferociously accomplished children.
Wasserstein studied playwriting at Yale School of Drama during Robert Brustein’s tenure as dean. She was in the company of theatre luminaries, including playwright Christopher Durang, actors Meryl Streep and Sigourney Weaver, and playwright-composer William Finn (Falsettos). She later became close with André Bishop (founder-director of Playwrights Horizons) and Frank Rich, among others. Brustein was no fan of Wasserstein’s work. He dismissed it as soap-opera. But he graciously acknowledged her success with a congratulatory telegram when she won the Pulitzer. Sixteen years later, when she died of cancer, even her detractors gasped. Few knew she was ill. An ex-boyfriend remarked that if Wasserstein had known that news of her death would hit the front page of the New York Times, she’d have stayed alive!
The “lost boys” of Salamon’s title refer to the many young men of Wasserstein’s life, including an institutionalized brother who was discovered in middle age by his astounded siblings. “Lost boys” also includes Wendy’s mother’s first husband, who died prematurely, after fathering Lola’s first two children. For most of her life, Wendy thought her eldest sister was born of the same father, and she knew nothing of the unseen brother. "Lost boys" also refers to the legion of gay men who were Wasserstein’s bosom buddies. She referred to many of them as "my husbands." One published a book called "Diary of a Lost Boy." Others referred to Wendy as the one who will not grow up; who tells stories to her lost boys.
Salamon writes of Wasserstein’s uncanny gift of recall for dialogue, which allowed her to mimic the tropes of her generation and become an object of worship to many. But she ruffled many feathers. In her first big success, Uncommon Women and Others, she reproduced late-night conversations from her undergraduate days at Mt. Holyoke. Her pitch-perfect memory made for credible dialogue, but her friends felt betrayed. A few shut their doors against her. An earlier play prompted the termination of Wasserstein’s brother’s marriage after her sister-in-law saw herself aped on stage.
One might argue that such collateral damage is irrelevant to discussion of her work. Writers, after all, have long mined their lives for material. Many modern classics—plays of Tennessee Williams, Lillian Hellman, Eugene O’Neill and Athol Fugard—spring to mind. The problem is that in the eyes of many critics, mine included, Wasserstein’s plays are deeply flawed. Her plays lack structural integrity. Her characters lack depth. They are overly reliant on the playwright’s gift for gab – or gags – which she produced in abundance. A brilliant friend of mine was one of Wasserstein’s chums at Yale. He once said of her: "There's no one funnier as a dinner companion, but she can't write a play to save her soul." His corroboration of my own harsh assessment of her work felt vindicating. But his friendship with her kindled the curiosity I have long felt about the person behind these plays. Though I never much cared for her plays, I found the person intriguing, and I thank Julie Salamon for placing her center stage.
Salamon is a consummate journalist, an exhaustive researcher, and a prolific writer. She is often described as a novelist in a journalist’s garb. Her oeuvre includes Rambam’s Ladder, a meditation on the practice and necessity of tzedakah (charitable giving); Hospital, which follows the trials and tribulations of a young medical resident, a Nebraska native, as he moves from big sky country into the polyglot chaos of Maimonides Hospital, which boasts myriad translators for the 70 languages spoken by the patient population. Excerpts of Hospital first appeared in The New Yorker. Salamon has also written for The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, Vanity Fair, Vogue, and The New Republic. She wears her learning lightly, a fact underscored by the absence of any mention, in any of her book jacket bios, that she holds a law degree from NYU.
Julie Salamon’s work is always rewarding. And note: you don’t have to know theatre to love this book.
I loved this book. I never much liked Wasserstein's plays, but I thought that she herself was an intriguing personality. Julie Salamon, whose writing I've long admired, is a consummate journalist and biographer: thorough, thoughtful, and sensitive and lyrical. Like Wendy Wasserstein, Salamon is Jewish, and her Jewishness subtly informs this biography. While Salamon is never overtly judgmental, her sturdy spine and her clear, however tacit, notions of right and wrong are in evidence - through the quotations she chooses to include. (Someone refers to WW as "selfish." One wonders whether Salamon agrees, though JS is careful about including so many other descriptions, including those of WW's generosity.) I had the feeling, through much of the book, that Salamon's view of WW was similar to my own. But at the end, Salamon seems to bestow weight to Wasserstein's writing - to the plays as well as to the many essays and longer prose pieces. (I wondered, though, whether it is Salamon's critical acuity that adds heft to WW's writings. WW picked up the tenor of the times, partly through uncanny powers of recall, which allowed her to use (exploit?) ancient conversations (and confidences) almost verbatim. WW's unique set of neuroses somehow allowed her to mimic the tropes of her generation, which she does with her pitch-perfect memory for dialogue. This was often discomfiting to her characters' real-life prototypes. (Her brother's wife divorced him after seeing herself parodied in one of WW's plays. Old confidantes shut their doors against WW after seeing themselves aped. Even I was discomfited by the evident exploitation.) But WW was also enormously generous. Examples abound. Salamon also explores the "lost boys" of Wendy's life, including a brother who was ill and put away, only to be discovered in middle age by his astounded siblings. But "lost boys" also refers to the legion of gay men who were WW's bosom buddies. She referred to many of them as "my husbands." One of them published a book called "Diary of a Lost Boy." Others referred to Wendy as the one who will not grow up; who tells stories to her lost boys.
Salamon's book unfolds as life itself unfolds. There are no preambles, no presaging passages, no unwarranted philosophizing or speculations. Salamon simply lets her subject's life speak for itself. Days whirl into the months and years of WW's ambitious, frenetic, drive. To see the way the Wasserstein siblings morphed into variants of their feared and formidable mother gives one pause. I still don't like Wasserstein's plays, but now I'm willing to give them another look. Truth to tell, I always thought I had more playwriting talent than WW. It's been hard to get over the fact people like WW, who went to the proper summer camp for successful playwrights (Yale Drama School), and who knew how to make the most of their contacts, succeeded in the theatre world. I never figured out how to parlay my many playwriting prizes into a career. (I once asked Richard Gilman why he included a certain vapid play in his short list of Broadway plays to see during a time of "decadence" on B'way. "Oh," Gilman said, "the author was a student of mine at Yale." Steam came out of my ears.
I had a brilliant friend who was Wasserstein's chum at Yale. His assessment of his friend: "There's no one funnier as a dinner companion. But she can't write a play to save her soul." His assessment of WW's plays felt like a vindication of my own harsh view of her work. It also fired the curiosity I have long felt about the person behind the plays. Thank you, Julie Salamon, for pulling the playwright from behind the wings!
REVIEW FOR THE WASHTENAW JEWISH NEWS:
Wendy Wasserstein, who died of cancer at age 55, was the first female playwright to win a Tony Award. She won it for The Heidi Chronicles in 1989. The play earned her the Pulitzer Prize that same year. She was 39. Today she is the subject of Julie Salamon’s elegant page-turner, Wendy and the Lost Boys: the uncommon life of Wendy Wasserstein.
Julie Salamon captures Wasserstein in all her bubbly, clever, neurotic, smiling, ambitious, conflicted, witty, and determined complexity. The youngest of five children, Wasserstein looked to family for comfort and closeness, though she never satisfied her mother’s wish that she slim down, marry, and have children. When she won the Pulitzer, her mother, Lola, gushed to friends and family: “Wendy won the Nobel Prize!” adding, “I’d be just as happy if she brought home a husband.” Nine years later, at age 48, Wasserstein gave birth to a daughter, Lucy, having kept her pregnancy secret from her mother and almost everyone else. The child’s paternity remains a mystery.
Salamon herself grew up amid family secrets. At age 10, for instance, she learned from cousins that her father had been married before, and that his wife and daughter were killed in Auschwitz. Salamon has spent her career uncovering secrets, and the secrets she exposes in this book have surprised even people who knew Wasserstein well. Many reported to Salamon that they never saw beneath Wasserstein’s sunny façade. They were aware of her wit, moxie, drive and devotion to family. They knew her warmth and immediacy, her ability to make them laugh, especially when she recapitulated conversations almost verbatim. But they were unaware of her deep-rooted sense of insecurity, of the store of zealously guarded family secrets, and of her relentless but futile drive to please her mother. Salamon allows her subject’s life to unfold without preamble or speculation, and she holds us in thrall as we watch Wendy and her siblings morph inexorably into variants of their feared, formidable, and secretive mother. But this mother managed to raise four ferociously accomplished children.
Wasserstein studied playwriting at Yale School of Drama during Robert Brustein’s tenure as dean. She was in the company of theatre luminaries, including playwright Christopher Durang, actors Meryl Streep and Sigourney Weaver, and playwright-composer William Finn (Falsettos). She later became close with André Bishop (founder-director of Playwrights Horizons) and Frank Rich, among others. Brustein was no fan of Wasserstein’s work. He dismissed it as soap-opera. But he graciously acknowledged her success with a congratulatory telegram when she won the Pulitzer. Sixteen years later, when she died of cancer, even her detractors gasped. Few knew she was ill. An ex-boyfriend remarked that if Wasserstein had known that news of her death would hit the front page of the New York Times, she’d have stayed alive!
The “lost boys” of Salamon’s title refer to the many young men of Wasserstein’s life, including an institutionalized brother who was discovered in middle age by his astounded siblings. “Lost boys” also includes Wendy’s mother’s first husband, who died prematurely, after fathering Lola’s first two children. For most of her life, Wendy thought her eldest sister was born of the same father, and she knew nothing of the unseen brother. "Lost boys" also refers to the legion of gay men who were Wasserstein’s bosom buddies. She referred to many of them as "my husbands." One published a book called "Diary of a Lost Boy." Others referred to Wendy as the one who will not grow up; who tells stories to her lost boys.
Salamon writes of Wasserstein’s uncanny gift of recall for dialogue, which allowed her to mimic the tropes of her generation and become an object of worship to many. But she ruffled many feathers. In her first big success, Uncommon Women and Others, she reproduced late-night conversations from her undergraduate days at Mt. Holyoke. Her pitch-perfect memory made for credible dialogue, but her friends felt betrayed. A few shut their doors against her. An earlier play prompted the termination of Wasserstein’s brother’s marriage after her sister-in-law saw herself aped on stage.
One might argue that such collateral damage is irrelevant to discussion of her work. Writers, after all, have long mined their lives for material. Many modern classics—plays of Tennessee Williams, Lillian Hellman, Eugene O’Neill and Athol Fugard—spring to mind. The problem is that in the eyes of many critics, mine included, Wasserstein’s plays are deeply flawed. Her plays lack structural integrity. Her characters lack depth. They are overly reliant on the playwright’s gift for gab – or gags – which she produced in abundance. A brilliant friend of mine was one of Wasserstein’s chums at Yale. He once said of her: "There's no one funnier as a dinner companion, but she can't write a play to save her soul." His corroboration of my own harsh assessment of her work felt vindicating. But his friendship with her kindled the curiosity I have long felt about the person behind these plays. Though I never much cared for her plays, I found the person intriguing, and I thank Julie Salamon for placing her center stage.
Salamon is a consummate journalist, an exhaustive researcher, and a prolific writer. She is often described as a novelist in a journalist’s garb. Her oeuvre includes Rambam’s Ladder, a meditation on the practice and necessity of tzedakah (charitable giving); Hospital, which follows the trials and tribulations of a young medical resident, a Nebraska native, as he moves from big sky country into the polyglot chaos of Maimonides Hospital, which boasts myriad translators for the 70 languages spoken by the patient population. Excerpts of Hospital first appeared in The New Yorker. Salamon has also written for The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, Vanity Fair, Vogue, and The New Republic. She wears her learning lightly, a fact underscored by the absence of any mention, in any of her book jacket bios, that she holds a law degree from NYU.
Julie Salamon’s work is always rewarding. And note: you don’t have to know theatre to love this book.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 2, 2025
This is competently written and researched, but Wasserstein seemed elusive—I never got a clear sense of who she was. I will say she didn’t come across as particularly likable, despite the repeated references to her charm, which was a big disappointment to me. The Heidi Chronicles really meant something to me as a single grad student. I saw it w two friends and remember crying. Good writers don’t have to be nice people, I know….
January 14, 2012
An incredibly fun read not only about Wendy Wasserstein but her generation of playwrights. It reads more like an extensive magazine profile than a traditional biography, punctuated with incisive quotations and observations from her family and friends not only about Wendy and her work. While largely reflecting upon the '60s and the '80s, her potent themes examining "uncommon women" (familiarly set in the context of the seven sisters colleges), family, and aging still feel incredibly fresh and contemporary. The end, depicting her deteriorating health, runs a little long, but otherwise this is a great read on how an artist takes the deeply personal and elevates it into art.
A couple of favorite lines:
For the Smithies: "Mary Jane felt that their friendship really began senior year, when they were away from the odd pressure of being rare specimens at Amherst." (emphasis mine)
On the 80s (and really now): "Our 'social concerns' really have to do with the quality of our own lives...We tend to want to live well and we're unhappy when we can't." --John Lyons, one of the casting directors Wasserstein worked with
On the etiquette of the theater: "Good manners go a long way. But even people in the mafia have better manners than in show business." - Caroline Aaron
A couple of favorite lines:
For the Smithies: "Mary Jane felt that their friendship really began senior year, when they were away from the odd pressure of being rare specimens at Amherst." (emphasis mine)
On the 80s (and really now): "Our 'social concerns' really have to do with the quality of our own lives...We tend to want to live well and we're unhappy when we can't." --John Lyons, one of the casting directors Wasserstein worked with
On the etiquette of the theater: "Good manners go a long way. But even people in the mafia have better manners than in show business." - Caroline Aaron
March 23, 2013
I'll start by saying that I have very little knowledge of popular theater and knew next to nothing about Wasserstein before starting this book. But I am interested in any writer's creative process and especially the collaborative effort of theater. This book is about the life of a busy, smart Jewish woman in Manhattan with a broad and complicated social life. This book is not about artistic effort, creative collaboration and exploration, surprisingly not about the impact of the AIDS epidemic to the theater community of the 1980's. As one review said, it reads like a long magazine profile, covers a lot of ground pleasantly without much depth or engagement. I came away with very little understanding of why her work was important, even less why she won her Pulitzer or the many other accolades bestowed upon her for her writing.
February 2, 2013
I've always been fascinated by Wendy Wasserstein... Now that I have read her biography, I am even more intrigued. What an interesting life, what a talent! As the Author notes, Ms. W had a war within herself, of the confident and the frightened, much of from the times (1960-80s) and some from her family. Her mother never seemed to forgive her for not settling down, marrying and having children. The problem was that Ms. W kept falling in love with gay men including Christopher Durang, Andre Bishop and Terrance O'Malley. and what talented choices they were.
Here's is also a tragic story, of a women who finally got her wish to become pregnant at 48 to then pass away at 55.
Salomon has presented a multi-layered story about an icon of our times.
Here's is also a tragic story, of a women who finally got her wish to become pregnant at 48 to then pass away at 55.
Salomon has presented a multi-layered story about an icon of our times.
February 6, 2022
A fascinating life for several reasons. Wasserstein's family, which provided her with most of her material, was filled with vivid/powerful personalities. She was friends with so many of the creative "stars" of New York life. Reading this book is like hanging out with the likes of James Lapine, Terrence McNally, Christopher Durang, Meryl Streep, and so many others. Wendy herself is complicated and flawed, always touchingly human. I love it when a biography is as engrossing as a novel!
September 26, 2011
This is really a remarkable biography -- incredibly researched and about a fascinating subject. I was not overly familiar with Wasserstein's work but I was captivated. Wendy is described so fully and objectively that the reader can't help but feel that they have gotten to know her. It would provide excellent fodder for a book club discussion.
September 23, 2011
Immensely readable and thoroughly researched, this definitive biography of Wendy Wasserstein deftly explores the many facets of her unique personality. Ultimately what emerges is a fascinating, frustrating, highly talented woman who was taken too soon.
October 25, 2011
I've always deeply admired Wendy Wasserstein and, as with so many readers/viewers of her plays, felt deeply connected to her as a writer and the characters she put onstage. This biography is intricately researched, warmly and honestly told and completely satisfying.
April 3, 2016
Sad, happy and uncompromising portrait of a complex and fascinating woman. So talented, so giving, so human. I had the honor of hearing Ms. Wasserstein speak at my college commencement, where she urged us not to live down to expectations. This book shows me she did not.
October 25, 2011
Amazing! This was a biography that was so well written and about such an interesting person that it was a page turner.
December 11, 2011
Engaging biography about a fascinating woman and playwright. Hard to put down.
February 23, 2012
An interesting biography of Wendy Wasserstein. A look back at the theater world and this talented playwright who died way too young.
July 12, 2018
I've wanted to read this book for a long time. The Heidi Chronicles was a formative play for me and I wanted to know more about the author. This book was wonderfully researched and a fast paced portrait of the author. I think Julie Salamon is a wonderful writer and I want to read more by her. That said, the subject is really hard. Mainly because despite her success so much of her life had elements of disappointment or more specifically odd kinds of insecurity. But I think the book portrayed that truthfully, I just wish when we read the books of people who created art that spoke to us we got to find out about how happy their lives were in contrast to their subject matter.
I don't think I would recommend this book to everyone, because I am not sure people who are not fans would get why so many people were touched by this very flawed woman's life. But maybe I am wrong, maybe her story has more universality that I realize. Regardless it was very well written and clearly captures the warmth of the subject without shying away from some very tricky flaws and contradictions.
I don't think I would recommend this book to everyone, because I am not sure people who are not fans would get why so many people were touched by this very flawed woman's life. But maybe I am wrong, maybe her story has more universality that I realize. Regardless it was very well written and clearly captures the warmth of the subject without shying away from some very tricky flaws and contradictions.
June 7, 2021
I'm not sure how to rate this. I live in NYC, and I love theater, and I've never heard of Wendy Wasserstein or any of her plays. So, in that regard, I feel like this book filled in some gaps in my education. My rating of the book itself is lower. Biographies often suck because the biographer does all this research and tries to be impartial, and you are left with a dry recitation of facts and no narrative. This book is one of those biographies. I would tell a friend to skip the first 118 pages, and pick up the story when Wendy starts her career. The people she meets early in her career, the way she grappled with the changing opportunities for women; these parts of Wendy's story ressonate. On the other hand, her secrecy, her mining of her friends' lives for her plays, her hero worship of her brother... These things didn't make Wendy very likable, and since there is no compelling narrative in the book except the recounting of Wendy's life, it makes it hard to keep reading.
I did really like reading about the creation of Playwrights Horizons and other off Broadway theaters. Likewise, the Open Doors program that Wendy started to expose high school kids to Broadway theater.
I did really like reading about the creation of Playwrights Horizons and other off Broadway theaters. Likewise, the Open Doors program that Wendy started to expose high school kids to Broadway theater.
May 15, 2024
After a reprise of the essay “Complications” in the New Yorker for Mother’s Day, I knew I wanted to know more about Wendy Wasserstein as a contemporary to me. As a Canadian hick who has no familiarity with the New York theatre scene, Google was a total bonus while reading this impeccable biography. Immaculately and sensitively researched, Salamon brings Wendy back to life, minus her trademark wit and humor. From the time she was born into a wealthy secular Jewish family in 1950 until her death, Wendy was one of a kind. Despite being born into the kind of wealth that few of us will ever know, Wendy had more than her share of personal challenges and secrets. Salamon documents this so well that the book reads like page-turner fiction. Gets 5 Stars from me.
August 5, 2024
My rating is based not on the quality of the writing, though the book was well-written, relied on many sources of journals, and stories from friends and family to construct the life of this very private and complicated woman. Instead, my rating was based on how enjoyable it was to learn more about one of my favorite playwrights and essayists. I saw her Pulitzer Prize-winning "The Heidi Chronicles" on Broadway, and several others on PBS, or read the plays in print. The backstories and timelines of her work made me want to see or read Wendy Wasserstein's work again. Dead at 55, I can only imagine what she would have contributed had she lived longer.
October 3, 2022
Didn't realize how semi-autobiographical so much of Wasserstein's work is. But with a family like hers, the plays almost write themselves. Wasserstein was working at such an important time, it was interesting to read about her connections to other playwrights and theaters (like Terrance McNally, James Lapine, Playwrights Horizons). She had quite a life....so sad it ended too soon.
May 7, 2020
It was a definite Theatre Geek's book. It got way beyond where I was in Theatre and lost me and I just couldn't find my way back.
November 9, 2020
LOVED this book. WW had perseverance, grit, passion- what an inspiration.
May 26, 2023
i have never read a better description of the paradoxical messaging a certain kind of parent sends: that their children "are better than everyone else but not good enough [for them]"
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