I point my cameraphone at the boy who is chasing a pair of robins across the park with his newly minted stagger-walk. The robins, unconcerned, barely rouse themselves to fly a few yards away…
In 1982, my parents divorce, and my mom, sister, and I move to a small house in West Concord, at the time a working class town twenty miles west of Boston. I am eight years old.
You’ve got your agent. You’ve found a publisher. Now, you’re entering a strange period of apparent uselessness while your agent and publisher talk in hushed tones about The Deal.
At 15, Judith A. Fisher began stealing her mother’s painkillers. One night, feeling particularly unloved by her parents, she leaves a note and swallows the pills, waking up later in the hospital