My fathers work was a deeply compelling blend of the profane and the sacred, like a drunk confessing his sins to a good priest only to go out and commit them once more but this time not as unconsciously, not as cruelly, and not as if that would forever be his fate...He still wrote every morning...By midmorning hed be done. Hed count how many words hed gotten and record the number. After each total, whether it was fifteen hundred or fifty, he wrote: Thank you. ~ Andre Dubus III, Townie I just finished this memoir. Its a long, hard read. But if youre willing to go the distance there are riches to be found - phrases, sentences, paragraphs like the one above, that cause you to be still and know, and say thank you. At least thats how it played out for me.
Posted on: Tue, 02 Dec 2014 12:49:12 +0000
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