Don't Think Twice/Advice

I finally finished A Tidewater Morning. Eleanor was in my arms when I read the last few pages. She was laughing at Stella, who was hungry for a treat, and the sunlight was streaming into our home from the West. William Styron, man. If he were still alive, I'd write him a letter. This is how he starts the final paragraph: "We each devise our means of escape from the intolerable. Sometimes we can fantasize it out of existence." Jesus.

Night before last, Janelle's friend Jessica came over for dinner. We talked about a bunch of things, including flow psychology, church, and the idea of destiny. She broke out her guitar and started to sing a few songs. Luckily, I had my recording equipment handy, because she sang some of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard. I said, "Know any Dylan songs?" and "Yeah, I know one. 'Don't Think Twice.'" It turned out to be one of the most beautiful versions of that song I've ever heard, and right in our living room here in the death house. It's now available below, at the click of a button. If you listen close, you can hear the insatiable, up-past-her-bedtime Eleanor in the background from time to time.

I don't know what I'd write in that letter to William Styron, exactly. Probably a long, twisty drawn-out "thank you," with a request for some writerly advice. There's a lotta people I wish were still alive. Tonight I have written about just one.