Zen in the Art of Writing

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Early January, 1983

Now that I’ve experienced a loving gay relationship, I feel more alone than I did before I knew what I was missing. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of Sean; I’m surprised how affected I am by losing him. There’s no one I can talk to about it, and my letters to Susan, Stacy and Miriam have all been perfunctory. Denial, mostly.

A 30-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From Mid-January, 1982

When I got home I saw live photos of the jet crash; it was taking off during a bad snowstorm and went right into the 14th Street Bridge, killing motorists before it fell into the icy Potomac. It was Air Florida flight #90 en route to Tampa and Fort Lauderdale – the exact flight I took last summer.