Novelists are like fur trappers. They disappear into the north woods for months or years at a time, sometimes never to re-emerge, giving in to despair out there, or going native (taking a real job, in other words), or catching their legs in their own traps and bleeding out, silently, into the snow. The lucky ones return, laden with pelts.
JEFFREY EUGENIDES
Monday, May 20, 2019
Jeffrey Eugenides
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment