Orchid Hunting Is A Mortal Occupation.

I Teach A Non-fiction Writing Class At New York University, And One Of My Great Pleasures Is Deciding On The Syllabus.

I Teach A Non-fiction Writing Class At New York University, And One Of My Great Pleasures Is Deciding On The Syllabus.

Everything Rational And Sensible Abandons Me When I Try To Throw Out Photographs. Time And Time Again, I Hold One Over A Wastebasket, And Then Find It Impossible To Release My Fingers And Let The Picture Drop And Disappear.

When I Was A Kid, Phone Calls Were A Premium Commodity; Only The Very Coolest Kids Had A Phone Line Of Their Own, And Long-distance Phone Calls Were Made After Eleven, When The Rates Went Down, Unless You Were Flamboyant With Your Spending. Then Phone Calls Became As Cheap As Dirt And As Constant As Rain, And I Was On The Phone All The Time.

When My Son Was Born, And After A Day Of Lying-in I Was Told That I Could Leave The Hospital And Take Him Home, I Burst Into Tears. It Wasn't The Emotion Of The Moment: It Was Shock And Horror.