It’s one thing for a publisher to undervalue an author, but it seems to me, it’s quite another for the author to undervalue his/herself and his/her work. Ask anyone who’s tried to write a book. It is not an easy thing. Well, not an easy thing if you want to write a good book.
She had been in a nursing home for several years, deteriorating at a snail’s pace. On my annual visits, my brother and I would question the wisdom of stockpiling old people in places like this.
From where he sits on the sofa, Vivaldi on the portable CD player next to him, he sees everything but can make sense of nothing. His home gleams. Not a spot of dust anywhere. His wife, with nothing else to do but care for him, has become obsessive. Dust she can control. A husband whose mind deteriorates a little more each day is beyond her.