Flash-Non-Fiction:
It is strange to be back in Sewanee, Tn. Everything feels so hither and yon since my last weekend twenty year reunion. I feel as if I have been going for days and days, and am losing touch with the reality of the rest of the world’s problems. My myopia to return to the mountain has so consumed my every step. Why would I leave my family to become something I already am— a writer? I am one who no longer craves anyone’s approval and accepts the suffering of the world because of my own human frailty and the absence of a kind of holiness required to fix human misery. The answer is because I have only today accepted my own artistry and a commitment to the craft itself. I will get my shit together by sleeping one off tonight, and then wake early for my emphasis on “process over product.” I place that in parentheses because only a cancer on society would not give credit where it is due. All credit to God that I have made it this far in life. Thanks Saban and thanks David Wharton for helping me see “process” above all else as the way to live our lives in our respective callings.