Blogs and Stories
The West Coast Gossip Girl
Grace, Jen, and I continued to discuss our college worlds: “Also, I had no idea that it was so unusual to hire limos for semiformals.”
“Oh, God—do you remember the time we took a limo to that ninth-grade dance? That was so embarrassing! Limos were fine for semiformal, but a little too much for a ninth-grade dance.”
“A little too much?” We laughed, remembering. A friend’s dad hired that limo as a surprise.
That same week, I met up with another friend from L.A. “Want to hear something amazing? My college roommate had never heard of Perez Hilton!” I told him, beaming.
“What? That’s so crazy, so messed up!”
I shook my head, eyes wide. “It’s not messed up—it’s fantastic!” My friend continued to shake his head. “Come on,” I said. “Just think, none of that celebrity gossip. Admit it, there’s something kind of fantastic about it.”
“No, that’s crazy.”
When I told Leah, my roommate, about Perez Hilton and Free City, she said the same thing: “That’s crazy.” So, the question is, who’s crazy—us or them? And, which “us” do I belong to?
My goal in writing Hancock Park was to explore what it means to live an “L.A. childhood,” and when I started the book, I was still in the process of living that life myself. At the time, I hoped to distinguish myself from Los Angeles, especially the parts of the city that tormented me the most. I’ve only spent one year away, and I’m not sure that I have any answers—at least, not yet.
Did we grow up too fast in Hancock Park? Probably. Would I raise my kids there? Maybe; I’m not sure. Is it home? Yes. Los Angeles is the city that raised me, the lens through which I first learned to view the world and which I now change and adjust as my perspective deepens. As The Decemberists sing, for better or for worse (or at least for now), “Los Angeles, I’m yours.”
Originally from Los Angeles, Isabel Kaplan is a student at Harvard University. Her first novel, Hancock Park, was published this summer by HarperCollins.








At least she can prove, as a Harvard student that, she does attend Harvard in an age where harvardophiles rage in eastern cities to the point where one whispers Harvard and women drop their panties and men drop to their knees and employment is offered to any person who whispers Harvard whether they can prove attendance or not.
The Ivy curse for the rest of us: we have to prove our credentials every time, outperform our Harvard friends and get past the harvardophiles and the imposters every time.
Harvard has history, which people value. An Ivy league education is quickly sinking into doldrums though. There, an education is not had, but rather a way of thinking is created.
Besides, a student will take what they want from whatever it is they choose to; a book, a professor, an experience.
Isabel wrote an interesting article that kept my attention, something most bloggers can't do.
"An Ivy league education is quickly sinking into doldrums though."
Really?? Did I miss something? (please don't say "the recession")
A novel about an LA kid who goes to college on the East Coast and then writes abouth the excesses of LA teenagers, sounds like "Less Than Zero" by Bret Ellis. I highly recommend "Less than Zero".
Glad to hear the publishing industry is recycling more old themes.
Yawn
great. another a privileged kid with too much time on her hands and a laptop creating puerile pablum for the illiterate elite.
Harvard is bankrupt. What a perfect place for little Miss LA, who is the same, all the way around.
My husband graduated from Harvard (back when he got in despite his heritage, not BECAUSE of it). My daughter (who refused to attend Harvard because it wasn't a toll call away from home) now lives in L.A. and wants to be an entertainment lawyer. They both tell me that the only difference between the two is the weather!
Thank you.
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