I saw Ben. We were in a coffeeshop in Lake Forest. It was Starbucks. Do you remember, you had asked him while driving when he could drink coffee. He said eighteen. You asked where. He said Starbucks. And there he stood, smiling at me, reminiscent of you. Then I woke up.

on a wish and a fear

Old School

No true account can be given of how or why you became a writer, nor is there any moment of which you can say: This is when I became a writer. It all gets cobbled together later, more or less sincerely, and after the stories have been repeated they put on the badge of memory and block all other routes of exploration. There's something to be said for this. It's efficient, and may even provide a homeopathic tincture of the truth. --From Old School by Tobias Wolff 

Coleridge the Runaway

"No one on earth has ever LOVED me," he later wrote.

Anne Fadiman, At Large and at Small

Chapter Eight

There are trails to walk in the woods and rules that say if you pass someone during the day you may simply drop your gaze to the path as a signal you are thinking seriously about your work and do not wish to engage in conversation.

Ann Patchett, Truth and Beauty 

I saw Ben. We were in a coffeeshop in Lake Forest. It was Starbucks. Do you remember, you had asked him while driving when he could drink coffee. He said eighteen. You asked where. He said Starbucks. And there he stood, smiling at me, reminiscent of you. Then I woke up. 

on a wish and a fear

I used to write here more often.