It’s funny that, a couple days after my post about meeting your teachers, I read this story in the New Yorker. It’s a story by Jonathan Lethem about two bookstore employees who travel to the small town in which their hero, an obscure and seemingly out-of-fashion author lives. Beware the racy drawing that accompanies the story; it is not as racy as the story itself.
I certainly hope I don’t have to go through the kind of ordeal the characters in this story do to meet my favorite cartoonists, but maybe that’s par for the course.
Does a life of telling stories make a person crazy, or do you have to be born crazy to want to make a living that way? It’s a timeless question.