I haven’t posted because I’ve felt I’m expected—possibly even required—to post about my father, and…I don’t want to. His dying was both expected and a shock. It’s complicated, both the Rube Goldberg-like route he took to death and my feelings about it and him and us. Writing about it, even thinking of writing about it, [...]
Deplorable solipsism? The new face of literature? Or merely a clever procrastination device...
I Wrote This.
