I think the library saved my life. I sat on the floor looking at books about nudist colonies filled with black-and-white pictures of naked people in sneakers, playing volleyball, practicing archery, grilling hamburgers, and generally being naked, which I found bizarre but also helpful since there were no boys in our family and my father was not a naked person ever. Also, I read all of Jane Austen, Dickens, the Brontes, Louisa May Alcott, piles and piles of books.
Read MoreAn excerpt from The Bolter: A Memoir. My family believed in Dickens, root vegetables, ignoring difficult truths and Louis Kahn. They believed in making fun of the fat, the unintelligent, the poorly read, the conservative, and God. We believed in Ireland and scorned the Brits but loved England and adored the Beatles and hated the Monkees. I had no idea what was morally correct as a child, except you, should suffer for everyone and not show off. You should tell a good story, and when your parents drank, go to bed, and hold your breath and hope morning comes fast.
Read MoreI grew up in the country. Sort of. Our farmhouse was just over the county line from Princeton, part of Lawrenceville, a sort of red-headed stepchild of both towns. When we moved in, I was, I think, four? I was born across the street from Princeton University where my father was an English professor, then we went to live in London for a year where I acquired a posh accent from attending my posh nursery school while my sisters, doomed to the comprehensive, spoke like ‘guttersnipes’ according to some upper-class lady who encountered them in Harrods.
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