Writing with (and without) Despair
We’re writing about those dark places this week, which feels apropos here in New England where, as my son gleefully announced every night for eight nights, “It’s 4:12 p.m.! Sunset! We can do Hanukkah!” I face my morning runs with extreme trepidation, as I go at 6 a.m., but since sunrise isn’t until after 7 a.m., I am wary of cars and holes in sidewalks and tree branches (in October,…