Bruce Holbert Guest Post on San Francisco Book Review


“I grew up in the American West and reside here, still.  In the West, story is the amniotic fluid from which we are thrust.  We may not later recognize its taste or scent or syrupy weight in our lungs, but neither are we inclined to distinguish the acrid pine in the air or the doughy aroma of damp wheat if we have never lived far from the forest or ranch.”

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