On Easter Sunday, I got a call from my uncle that my dad needed to go to the emergency room. I was at brunch with friends before a Cubs game when the call came through. I didn’t want to panic because after years of living 11 hours away by car, I’ve learned there isn’t much…
One of the things I like about being a writer is that you can always keep everything. Artists and sculptors have to mine their own souls, transfer that material into physical form, and then give it away to other people. Musicians and actors can record themselves, sure, but their performances are trapped in that moment…