To some writers the adverb is a largely pointless outcropping of language; to them a sentence is a lean thoroughfare…
Nonfiction
Letters to My Sons
Shall I surround you with uncles, with men from above the creek from which we come, while we shout from painted faces and you stand stock still beneath the noise and dark?
The Love We Deserve
“I don’t want him in this house,” my mother said. It was within that month-long period after Thanksgiving and before Christmas, and she was talking about my boyfriend at the time.