At the corner of First Avenue and East 11th Street, tourists and residents alike stopped in their tracks, stunned by the mural in front of them. It was a very familiar visage split straight down the middle. The right half of the face depicted an image of a young boy with a relaxed smile, round cheeks and a discernible afro on a white backdrop. The left half, by contrast, showed an older, gaunt face with straight hair and alert eyes on a black backdrop. The faces were further bifurcated into crisp diamonds in all the colors of the rainbow, standing out from the neighboring red brick facades. The face was none other than the late king of pop: Michael Jackson.
Who ever said that writing, at its best, is a lonely life? We’ve got your weekly round-up of bibliovents that prove once in a while writers do actually jerk themselves away from their laptops to good effect. On the books this week are a wide variety of events, from a reading where you can get tattooed while soaking up some Alt-Lit vibes, to a panel discussion of the King of Pop led by his brave biographer.