More Carolyn Chute

Link cour­tesy of End­less Emen­da­tion:

PARSONSFIELD, Me. — The nov­el­ist Car­olyn Chute doesn’t have a work­ing phone, a fax or a com­put­er. She writes on a wash­tub-size elec­tric type­writer that was prob­a­bly state of the art in the ’70s. Ms. Chute (pro­nounced CHOOT) and her hus­band, Michael, live in a small com­pound at the end of an unpaved road in this rur­al Maine vil­lage near the New Hamp­shire bor­der. There are stacks of old tires in the yard, a rust­ed bed­stead, a pen full of Scot­tish ter­ri­ers and an assort­ment of well-used vehi­cles. A bumper stick­er on Mr. Chute’s pick­up reads, “School Takes 13 Years Because That’s How Long It Takes to Break a Child’s Spir­it.”

I admire the lifestyle. I don't know if I could do it myself, though. It's one thing to read about it, anoth­er entire­ly to do: what would I do with­out the com­put­er?

Find­ing new con­tent and find­ing time to put it up or write some­thing halfway clever has been dif­fi­cult late­ly, as you all have no doubt noticed. I'm hop­ing to be back on the stick some­time soon.

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