I saw Charles Baxter read once, in Minneapolis, I think. During the Q&A he mentioned that his early unpublished novels sucked, and when someone asked why, he said that he went about writing them in a little too Stevie Wonder a way. Then he mimed Stevie Wonder.
Closed eyes, lifted chin, lolling head. Fingers moving freely over the keyboard.
I thought that was funny.
I'm not going to say why the memory arises just now.
My love for Charles Baxter grows and grows. This has been the Winter of Baxter for me.
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