But The First Lesson Reading Teaches Is

Family's The One Thing You Can't Change. You Can Cover Yourself With Tattoos. You Can Get A Grapefruit-sized Ring Going Through Your Earlobe. You Can Change Your Name. You Can Move To A Different Continent. But You Cannot Change Who Your Parents Were, And Who Your Siblings Are, And Who Your Children Are.

This Evening I Begin A Notebook. If Anyone Reads This, I Trust They Will Forgive My Overuse Of "i". I Can't Stop It. I'm Writing This.

And When The Event, The Big Change In Your Life, Is Simply An Insight-- Isn't That A Strange Thing? That Absolutely Nothing Changes Except That You See Things Differently And You're Less Fearful And Less Anxious And Generally Stronger As A Result: Isn't It Amazing That A Completely Invisible Thing In Your Head Can Feel Realer Than Anything You've Experienced Before?

Expecting A Novel To Bear The Weight Of Our Whole Disturbed Society—to Help Solve Our Contemporary Problems—seems To Me A Peculiarly American Delusion. To Write Sentences Of Such Authenticity That Refuge Can Be Taken In Them: Isn't This Enough? Isn't It A Lot?

I Admire Your Capacity For Admiring.