I finished Richard Ford's "Independence Day" last week at the beach-- the book that precedes "Lay of the Land" and I have the sneaking suspicion that I read it when it came out thirteen years ago, but there's nothing definite that makes me sure I read it (and it is nearly five hundred pages) except that I felt a sense of
deja vu during the end, which leads me to think that I either A) read an excerpt in the New Yorker or B) have completely lost my mind.
2 comments:
What has happened to the quote of the day??
vacation.
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