Changes, changes. Yesterday, as I was reading the proofs of my forthcoming Vagabond's Bookshelf, I was surprised to note how much my prose style has shifted since I wrote the essays in that book. A primary difference is sentence length: these days I seem to be writing shorter sentences . . . but of course my version of a short sentence is still another writer's long one. Though I've been tempted to edit them down, I've mostly let the long sentences stand. I've found myself thinking of them as a diary of my style, just as the subject matter is a diary of my reading life. "Certain readers speculate that, when Dawn Potter was in her forties, she was reading far too many Henry James novels, and thus her expository prose was disproportionately affected."
By the way, I appreciate your many reactions, both in the comments and in private notes, to yesterday's post. I think the topic must be a sore spot for many of us. We're lonely; we think we don't want to be lonely; we can't wait to be lonely again.
And Tu Fu readers: Don't forget to do your part.