BLOG: "Dinner at Elaine's" — The last resort to getting published

BySaleh Aldasouqi, MD, FACE, ECNU

“Woody, this is Spinelli, the writer from Philadelphia,” the story-teller announced as he was introducing Spinelli to Woody Allen as Woody was having dinner at Elaine’s.

“Yes, I know,” Woody Allen answered, interrupting his dinner and welcoming Spinelli.

I heard this story on the Moth Radio Hour, which airs live, unscripted stories told by guests, usually celebrities, in various arts and literature.

The story teller was George Plimpton, the story was titled “Dinner at Elaine’s,” and Spinelli was Jerri Spinelli, the “writer from Philadelphia.”

What invoked the topic for this post is the issue of getting published. For scientific authors, myself included, getting published usually denotes the publication of scientific/research papers in medical journals. For literary authors, it usually involves getting books published.

This post is about a fascinating story in the domain of fiction writing. The Moth Radio Hour’s story was touching, hilarious and very well told. Plimpton, I learned later, was a famous American journalist, writer, actor and editor. The Spinelli story first aired on NPR in March 1999.

Plimpton begins his story with an introduction about his prior job as a demolition expert in the army and begins talking about fireworks. He joked about the difference between writing a book or paper and launching fireworks — you could hardly get a few people reading your words but the firework sparks, lights and smoke will be seen by a huge crowd leading to enormous satisfaction.

Then Plimpton shared a personal story: He was invited by New York’s fireworks group to participate in the display during the celebration of the 100th anniversary of the Brooklyn Bridge. As he was climbing a long cable with a group of people toward the top of one of the giant high-rise tops of the bridge, he saw a handwritten note. It said, “You’ve come a long way baby; and now let’s see you fly.”

He jokingly hypothesized that it was written by a failed writer who could never get his work published — a writer whose books and papers were probably rejected. Then Plimpton began talking about Spinelli’s story.

Plimpton said that some years ago, a Philadelphia-based public TV station called him and asked him to be the prize for an auction. A man from Philadelphia won the prize, it was Jerri Spinelli. He was watching the show and bought a ticket when he saw the ad for the auction.

Plimpton’s prize was a trip for the winner and a companion to Plimpton’s New York apartment for an evening and dinner. Plimpton and his wife decided the evening would be a quick welcome at the apartment and dinner for four at a restaurant close to the train station. Spinelli and his wife arrived at the apartment, and as the men were playing a game of pool, Mrs. Plimpton took Mrs. Spinelli on a tour.

Mrs. Spinelli told Mrs. Plimpton that her husband was a fiction writer who had never been published. No publisher was ever interested in his manuscripts. Mrs. Plimpton told her husband this story, and the plan for the evening changed. Plimpton decided to do something to help his guest. “We are going to Elaine’s,” he announced.

Elaine’s restaurant was a famous hangout for world-class celebrities — writers, editors, actors, comedians — including Woody Allen.

Plimpton went from one table to the next introducing his guests. “This is Mr. Spinelli, the writer from Philadelphia, and his wife.” Plimpton meant to speak as loudly as possible whenever giving the introduction so all of the restaurant’s customers would take note of Mr. Spinelli. Woody Allen sat at the last table. “Woody, this is Mr. Spinelli, the writer from Philadelphia.”

After a moment of silence, Woody Allen looked up with a welcoming gesture and said, “Yes, I know.”

Two months later, Plimpton received a letter from Spinelli stating that his first book was accepted by a famous publisher.

For writers and authors, whether it is scientific or literary, the joy of getting published is unparalleled. It is satisfying that someone is interested in reading what the writer wrote. This very concept was emphasized in Plimpton’s Moth Radio Hour introduction about the fireworks.

I have been working on a book — a blend of humanities and medicine — for over 5 years, and I have not been able to convince an agent or publisher to believe in my capabilities as a writer. In spirit of the Moth Radio Hour story, I will not give up, I will wait for another Plimpton and maybe one day another Spinelli can be born.

I recommend those further interested to listen to the 8-minute podcast, “Dinner at Elaine’s”: themoth.org/storytellers/george-plimpton.