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Catching the eye of Harper and Row, being the first one into Chico Creek every spring, being tethered to the clothesline
By Our ReadersJune 1987An ex-spiritual-pest-control adherent; Portland, Oregon residents during the Chernobyl disaster; an expletive spewing six-year-old
By Our ReadersApril 1987Wandering the fields, rendezvousing in a cowshed, getting out the paper dolls
By Our ReadersMarch 1987Playing board games, returning a rented cap and gown, counting the days
By Our ReadersJanuary 1987I’m sitting at my desk watching the moon rise over the Berkshires; I’m in an apartment; I’m not in California
By Our ReadersDecember 1986The library is a trap; it is the subversion of secrecy; it is the first and best sanctuary of the life of the mind
By Our ReadersOctober 1986A book from childhood, a rainbow, a Grateful Dead show
By Our ReadersSeptember 1986Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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