March 28, 2011

I just finished reading “The Lovely Bones” by Alice Sebold. It made me cry. It made me feel I’d shared in a life. It made me want to burn my own manuscripts. I’m ten years late in reading this masterpiece and I’m jealous. If I’d read it sooner maybe I could have done a better job in telling my own stories. I don’t wish to diminish Ms. Sebold or her amazing talent; I only wish I could be half as good. Like a lot of things in my life, I’ve spent a vast amount of ...