A new essay of mine, “Dutcher’s Notch,” has just gone up on the Threepenny Review’s website (it’s also in the Summer 2010 print issue, for those of you who still consent to handle paper). The essay’s not so new actually: I wrote it all the way back in 1999, but when I showed it to my agent she said that only someone who knew me would be interested in reading it. Her response was sharp enough that I buried it in my computer and didn’t look at it for more than a decade, until I stumbled over it while sorting through my uncollected nonfiction to see if I have enough material for a book (I do; but I’m not going to publish it for a while). Anyway, I reread the essay, liked it, showed it to a friend, who also liked it and encouraged me to send it out, sent it to Wendy Lesser at Threepenny, who has a habit of rejecting 50% of what I send her (but also of publishing 50% of what I send her), and got a one word response: “Yes!!!” (I might be exaggerating the number of exclamation points, but I’m 99% sure there was more than one.) And so anyway, here, eleven years later, is my attempt to sort out the relationship between my panic attacks and my creative process. Read, or not, as you will…
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