Since I was a child, I’ve fancied myself one day a wizened old man whispering apothegms between halting steps and puffs on a pipe. And now that I am closer to that fancy than the time I began imagining it, I realize how little I know, or others want to know.
Plus I quit smoking a long time ago. So I guess it all went south then anyway.
My book is at 86,326 words.
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