“When your whole life is on the tip of your tongue…”

In October, a rare free weekend surprised me. I put aside the books I’m drafting, asked everyone who relies on me to grant me a few selfish days, and drove nine hours north and thirty years into the past. I barely recall how, but I once spent 16 unhappy months in New Hampshire, where a … Continue reading “When your whole life is on the tip of your tongue…”