Uncommon Type: Some Stories

by Tom Hanks

I’ll miss the sensation of a story placed above the fold on page one, and the shame of a story being relegated to page B6. I admit I get a kick out of seeing my face and my byline—my column—on the back page—so easy to find, and did you know a reading of the column and the timing of a soft-boiled egg are a perfect match? If/when the Tri-Cities Daily News/Herald goes all-digital/no print, this reporter will be sad/resigned at the advent of this thing we call Reality. And Al Simmonds, in Rewrite Heaven, will scratch his head in confusion, his typewriter flipped up forever.”…

Oh…” He turned back, stepping once again into the doorway. “Are you doing anything tonight?” Are you doing anything tonight? Bette had heard those very words too many times in the last few years. Are you doing anything tonight? From men divorced, single, unattached, and lonely—guys who had kids who lived with ex-wives, who lived in apartments, who searched Internet dating sites for any kind of intellectual or romantic or sexual hookup. Guys who took one look at her and thought, I wonder if she is doing anything tonight.

Ars Gratia Artis (Art for Art’s Sake), moaned the MGM lion.

she often fought back tears, worried that someone would see a pretty young girl undone by her struggles and, well, rob her or worse.

“There’s an infinite number of tangents, but we all exist in just one.”