The Night, The Rose Field: Amber Spyglass and the Distance Between Selves
Finishing Amber Spyglass was an event in my life. Like 9/11, or first heartbreak, I remember the details of that day, and the way that I felt afterwards. Longing, emotional, yet not quite able to understand nor articulate how I felt after finishing the read in a marathon session on the lazy-bay of my father’s house. I’m being driven up I-5, and the memories and plans of private planes through BFI are fresh. It’s a different layer than driving up I-5 on the motorcycle to make $60 teaching with the Princeton Review. Soaked on Seattle streets. There is no part of me that thought I would have been a Microsoft executive, not in this amount of time, not 15 years. ...