What can I do? I’m in a slump. If anyone is keeping records, let it be noted that I’ve showed up for practice, picked up the same rollerball pen, and held it in the preferred position as I’ve leaned into the clean white page. I’ve worn the regulation uniform — a black T-shirt and worn Levi’s — and focused on the task at hand: to keep my eyes open and my hand moving and not to second-guess myself as I swing and miss, swing and miss.


Note to self: Don’t worry about your readers. Don’t worry about your reputation as a man with big ideas. You don’t feel big today. You don’t feel like an editor or a publisher or a writer with an army of words to command. Small is how you feel. Too small to greet the day. Too small to find your way. Too small to defend yourself before a jury of your peers, who wouldn’t notice you anyway, because you’re too damn small.