I turned 40 this week (pipe down, I’m not fishing for B-day wishes, just pointing it out). In the grand tradition of turning the Big Four…Oh, it seemed like time to take stock, and to assemble a sort of personal inventory of the things I think I know about myself by this advanced age. The things I know about myself as a writer and reader, I mean. Who the heck wants to go down that dark path of a full-blown personal inventory, with the scratching trees and the slippery mud and what not? Continue reading “A Portrait of the Artist as an Old Man.”
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