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We each carefully slimmed down our things. I had arrived with approximately 30 boxes of books after having lived in perhaps 20 apartments within the same period-the life of a visiting writer. Dustin had lived in his apartment for 20 years, and had a great love of chairs, for example.

He, like me, had lived alone with his things just as he wanted them for some time, and I knew I was, despite being a beloved, invited guest, something of a crisis also. 'Five years ago, I moved in with my partner Dustin, joining him in his Hell’s Kitchen apartment in New York City. So I don’t want you trying to imitate me. You’re going to want to please me just for being your teacher. I’m going to have a big enough influence on you as it is, she said. When I got into the class, in the first class meeting, she told us not to read her work while we were her students. I didn’t buy them because if she rejected me, they would be unbearable to own. I walked around them as if they were her somehow and not her books, and left empty-handed. I was a last-semester senior, an English major who had failed at being a studio art major and thus became an English major by default.Īs I waited for what I was sure was going to be rejection, I went to the mall to shop for Christmas presents and walked through bookstores full of copies of the Annie Dillard boxed edition-Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, American Childhood, Holy The Firm-and the Best American Essays of 1988, edited, yes, by Annie Dillard. In 1989, this was the letter I sent with my application to Annie Dillard’s Literary Nonfiction class at Wesleyan University. The Morning News: “Annie Dillard and The Writing Life” His mother gave him a gold belt buckle to sell when he arrived, as she couldn’t give him money, and asked him, whatever he did, not to marry a blue-eyed, blonde-haired American girl.' Read more here. He left for the US while his father was away on business so he couldn’t stop him. After the war, he became the international tae kwon do champion in his age group at the age of eighteen, and captain of his college rugby team - the rice had helped two ways. In Korea, starting at the age of five, he ran barefoot in the snow when he was training for tae kwon do, so he was ready, during the Korean War, for when he and his oldest brother had to steal food from overturned army supply trucks, running the bags of rice home on their backs. He was good at poker, loved reading Tolstoy. 'His drink was Crown Royal, his candy bar, a Baby Ruth, though he didn’t like chocolate much. Granta, March 2009: “Portrait of My Father”

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