I stood in the narrow hallway on one of my most hectic days at three o’clock sharp. I was careful not to be late on a day when everything was going wrong for me. Clyde’s door was wide open so I looked inside his small office and found exactly what I had expected to see, a typewriter. I also noticed an old keyboard leaning against the wall, a small fifteen watt guitar amp, a very old, and a hard back copy of the book Where Trouble Sleeps on the desk, but not its author.

He arrived a few minutes late and we struck up a conversation. We talked about our growing up in southern North Carolina and taking for granted the wonderful things we experienced as possible sources for writing. He en

Some topics in this essay:
Clyde Edgerton, North Carolina, Farewell Arms, York Times, Trouble Sleeps, Walking Egypt, clyde edgerton, teaching writing,