Dead, We Are Revealed In Our True

That Summer When She Was Eighteen, It Seemed Anything Could Happen, Anything At All.

She Could Have Had A Life As Potent And Dangerous As Literature Itself.

People Are More Than You Think They Are. And They're Less, As Well. The Trick Lies In Negotiating Your Way Between The Two.

We Throw Our Parties; We Abandon Our Families To Live Alone In Canada; We Struggle To Write Books That Do Not Change The World, Despite Our Gifts And Our Unstinting Efforts, Our Most Extravagant Hopes. We Live Our Lives, Do Whatever We Do, And Then We Sleep--it's As Simple And Ordinary As That. A Few Jump Out Of Windows Or Drown Themselves Or Take Pills; More Die By Accident; And Most Of Us, The Vast Majority, Are Slowly Devoured By Some Disease Or, If We're Very Fortunate, By Time Itself.

What Do You Do When You're No Longer The Hero Of Your Own Story?