A Season for Change: Fall

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Listen me read the following below:

 

Fall Equinox means the morning light shifting to blue, and the evening creeping closer to four o’ clock than I’d like. It means heating up a chai latte on my stove in a saucepan and drinking it out of an enamel mug that says Rise and Shine on it. Fall used to be my favorite time of year, but I’ve grown wary of it in the last handful of them, because the way the air turns viscerally reminds me of when I was the sickest—I can’t help but breathe a little tighter because of the memories. Still: the turn toward another season is a reminder of the cycling nature of things. I signed my Graywolf contract for The Collected Schizophrenias: Essays in late September, and I’ve dedicated the rest of 2016 to working on that book and trying to hit remission, come Hell or high water, despite the fact that I have no control over whether or not that happens. I can only hope, and I am reasonably good at hoping. Hoping for wellness; hoping for The Border of Paradise to be on some awards longlists and end-of-the-year lists (are you a National Book Critics Circle member? Please have a look at this post about Border on the NBCC blog); hoping to be of use in the world; hoping for C to endure the toughest months of his work life with as much ease as possible; hoping for the November election to not wind up the way I fear it will. Soon enough, winter will be here, and then 2017—but right now, we have fall. We have what’s right in front of us.

Esmé

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