Without Death, There is No Art


In which I reveal all my secrets. How did I come to write My Beloved Life. For @Scroll.

The last exchange I had with my father was on the morning of March 7 last year. That same morning, I had learned from a phone call that I had been awarded a fellowship at the Cullman Center in the New York Public Library. For the previous twenty-four hours, due to reasons that were not clear to anyone, my father had been unwell.