Just a short post to activate the blog after a year's hiatus. One thing I've learned is that blogging is not something you can do when you feel like it. You've got to stay committed to posting on a regular basis or no one will bother to look at what you are doing.
It's been a wild year since I last updated this page: a great run working for Peter Mayer at The Overlook Press and being a part of the rediscovery of Charles Portis due, in no small part, to the new film version of True Grit. A move to Cambridge University Press.
It's also been a year of adjustment to new realities personal and otherwise--not the least being the realization that my oldest son will be off to college in less than a year.
And I got a lottery space in this year's New York City Marathon, which will be my fourth marathon at the age of [censored].
Today is Hollowe'en. I like spelling it this way.
Soon the kids from our towns and the surrounding towns will descend on the neighborhood for the annual assault. I am wondering how the tree branches on the ground and the impeded streets following this weekend's fluke of a winter storm will affect the turnout. Not by much, I suspect. Mischief night was a minor affair, last night, from what I can tell. I'm not sure if it was just the cold or if potential toilet-paperers saw the yellow warning cordoning off the fallen wires by my house and just decided someone had beaten them to the prank?
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