“Good boy, Heathcliff, hold still, this will be over soon,” I say as I grapple with the dog nail clippers. He whines and pants, trying to pull his paw out of my grasp. One of his nails is split and needs trimming so it doesn’t get snagged and torn off during his...
When I lived in Baltimore, my neighborhood book club read Ian McEwan’s Atonement. A few years later, I saw the movie. Ah, if only I could write with McEwan’s fine precision and capture the film’s brilliant cinematographic scenes. But there was a problem: I hated the...
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