Thirty-five years ago, Dennis McNally wrote a life of Beat icon Jack Kerouac. Looking back, he sees things in the book he’s proud of and a couple of things that make him wince.
Re-reading your own work, especially at some temporal distance, is a dangerous business. “How could I have written something so, so (fill in the negative adjective)?” But recently I did, and it proved surprising, not at all what I’d anticipated.
