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Anna Wintour�already hauled up for such treatment in the roman à clef The Devil Wears Prada�again conjures vengeful spirits between covers, in Front Row.

Having wanted to be a scientist, I came to literature a little late.

This is more fun than sitting at those tables that have everybody solemnly looking through candlelight at each other.

Performance artist Mike Albo and his partner, Virginia Heffernan, just published a comic novel about a classic New York phenomenon: a pseudo-friend whose backhanded compliments destroy the hero’s self-confidence.

Eisner’s visual flair raised this Everyman�in�a� wrinkled�Brooks Brothers�suit saga to high comic art.

A Shakespeare professor confesses a terrible secret: She writes romance fiction, pseudonymously.

To the litany of ever-younger literary phenoms you can now add Upper East Sider Amanda Marquit.

Louis Auchincloss is the last of the gentlemen novelists. What happens to a moral realist when the world alters around him?

The Ha-Ha has gotten the sort of shop-talk buzz and early reviews (�a writer to watch�) that tend to greet wunderkinds in their twenties.

I’m sort of on a Murakami kick. I was thinking it would be great to set him up in a Ford Explorer and have him tour the highways and byways of America