No sleep till Pulitzer.

Yesterday, The Economist writes of Martin Amis’s move to Cobble Hill:

If a writer of Mr Amis’s calibre—and a Brit at that—had bypassed Manhattan for Brooklyn, then the borough’s literary scene, long in the shadow of the publishing mecca across the East River, must have finally arrived.

And:

Brooklyn’s former manufacturing districts offer cheap, spacious offices for small literary outfits breaking off from the publishing behemoths in Manhattan. This has created a kind of vertically integrated factory for literature, where would-be poets or novelists can find not only throngs of other would-be writers at their local coffee hang, but also a locally run writing programme, excellent bookshops and readings series, and a cottage industry of literary magazines and small presses.

A vertically integrated factory: does that make us the American Apparel of literature?