I have to wonder if Hemingway kept notebooks, and if he did, were they filled with such prattle as written by novice writers? Did he burn the early ones? Did he edit, tear, burn the bits that made him sound like a writer unsure of his footing, or like a mere mortal listening to the sound of his own voice and seemingly unaffected by either wor [...]
Walking into a dimly-lit cabin on the shores of a subarctic lake, I thought I saw someone staring at me from a dark corner. I walked closer to get a better look.
He wasn’t too talkative.
Although my confession here might cause those hanging out on the Newton mailing lists some degree of embarrassment for their newfound brethren (their technical aptitude, at least for hardware, seems to dwarf my own), I have to admit some trepidation, if not outright fear, in finally addressing the eternal problem of eMates: wonky hinges. It [...]