Back when I was writing fiction, the father of a well-known novelist expressed condolences to my parents, noting that it took fortitude for them to face permutations of themselves in print. I often think of this when reading Julian Barnes, whose depictions of his mother, even years after her death, are so unflattering. No, lethal.
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Source: http://feeds.washingtonpost.com/click.phdo?i=62d0fa5ec4196cd7f4beb30a89b5660b
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