He’d sit in the back with a cup of coffee and an overflowing ashtray. Wilson was a large, bearded man, often in tweeds and a pageboy cap. Wilson, who died in 2005, spent so much time lingering in diners that “Writing in Restaurants” is a plausible alternative subtitle for Hartigan’s “August Wilson: A Life.” Mamet’s title came back to me while I was reading Patti Hartigan’s biography of another essential American playwright, August Wilson. Alas, the book was only vaguely about restaurants. In 1986, David Mamet published his best book, a slim and semi-hardboiled treatise on theater and life titled “Writing in Restaurants.” This was decades before he became “the Kanye West of American letters,” as The Forward put it last year.
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