By the end of the Nineties, the timeline I’d created seemed more and more inept at capturing the life I wanted to live and to write about. Every time I thought I’d traced some sort of progression, I changed directions; every identity I created bored me. As my plans became my life, I no longer wanted to write about them. Every choice I made killed a little bit of possibility, a little bit of the mystery and the hope I saw in the world outside myself.

Just added to The List and the Story: Out of the Nineties

AuthorJohn Proctor