Books
August, 1985
When the slings and uncertainties of trying to make a living writing begin getting tome, I start dreaming of better ways to live. And out of so many so easily named, I generally come up with a sunny used-book store in a handsome old building on the square of some forgotten small town, where, ideally, I would have no customers and would spend peaceful days among the books with just a fat, lazy cat as company--when I wasn't gone fishing, that is.I know this reveals the old coot in me rattling his...
