To write, I lie across the bed, so that this elbow is absolutely encrusted at the end, just so rough with callouses.
The Paris Review, The Art of Fiction No. 119, Issue 116, Fall 1990
To write, I lie across the bed, so that this elbow is absolutely encrusted at the end, just so rough with callouses.
The Paris Review, The Art of Fiction No. 119, Issue 116, Fall 1990