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For four years I’d been attempting to accept David’s paradoxes, his self-contractions, and his darkness—the whole rich Wallace bouquet. I loved David, and I wanted him to be better than he was. I’d try to remind myself that no one is ever clear in moral terms, and so who, really, was I to judge? I …

The night of the dinner, Barth had on a black beret, worn at a jaunty angle upon his bald crown, and looked just like John Barth. He made the rounds to each table, and when he took a seat at ours, he talked wittily about hot-air balloons, which was just the sort of thing you’d expect John Barth to …

Questions: Is there any more tenuous, insecure, and impossible job than a writer’s? Are there ever any judgments more unforgiving than literary judgments? Why do we, or did we (back when we, for better or worse, cared a little more than we do now), insist on evaluating a writer’s career—the career …

Remember, remember, I’d tell myself, whatever power this job provides is an illusion.

Remember, remember, I’d say, when you get thrown back into who you are, you’d better have something there.

Another lesson: I had to remember to quit before I got fired. I didn’t want to become a Japanese sol…

The truth: my career had been built around protecting male egos. This was the world I lived in. This was the world I knew, and I never believed this world could, or would, change. It seemed incomprehensible that the system could ever collapse. So I started trying out a new approach. I would change …