"Delay is natural to a writer. He is like a surfer—he bides his time. Waits for the perfect wave on which to ride in. He waits for the surge (of emotion? of strength? of courage?) that will carry him along." (E.B. White, The Paris Review Interviews, 1969)
6.01.2006
Not-So-Secret Garden
The herb garden in front of our new apartment. Pretty much the opposite of everything I previously thought about Fargo.
The herb garden in front of our new apartment. Pretty much the opposite of everything I previously thought about Fargo.
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