Status Updates From The Art of Fielding

Mike, looking happier than Pella had yet seen him, roamed the room, browsing the endless shelves, until he found The Book itself—the oversize, hand-set, Arion Press Moby-Dick that her dad had bought for a thousand dollars in 1985 and was now worth thirty times more, not that you could assign a value to such a dear and beautiful thing.

wahoo sportsball! so far it is Ok. some nice moments, even some i giggled at that were Funni, but i feel conflicted about the way we just flew through henry's first two years and took the telling-not-showing to a whole different level. huh.

In the spring of 1880, Herman Melville, then sixty years old, was working as a customs inspector at the Port of New York, having proved unable to support his family through literary work. He was not famous and earned almost nothing from royalties. His first-born son, Malcolm had committed suicide thirteen years earlier. Melville’s in-laws, among others, feared for his health and regarded him as insane.