At the moment I am unable to finish (anything) a blog-post. Thus, indulge me. Chapter 1 of my unsold novel, Libertytown. As it turns out, long before I knew my Mom would end up in Record Street, it had been included in my book.
I’m all afterglow from the National Book Festival yesterday and so, I hope you will indulge me if I drop part of Chapter 1 of my novel, Libertytown, here today. Here goes:
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I cannot sleep. Again. All these stories.
My fifth night in my new home, well, really, my old home, and as has so often been the case with passions into which I’ve thrown myself, tumbling, staggering, and refusing to consider the possibility my first instincts might – just might – be a mistake, I find myself again at two a.m., just like my first, second, third, and fourth nights here, panicked, unable to figure out what to do when the inevitable morning after arrives.
What have I done?
Two hundred and ninety seven boxes and I have no idea where to begin.
It does not help that in my precipitous…
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