The kind you’re born with, the kind you choose, the kind that teach Catholic school
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Ignacio Schwartz’s new novel, The Buddha of Boystown, has been rejected by ninety-eight agents. Not ninety-eight publishers: ninety-eight agents. He lives in San Diego, California.
For those of you who have never had a panic attack, the words may have no special emotional tug. For those of you who have had one, they will bring forth memories of a mind frozen in exquisite agitation, the whole room, the whole world enmeshed in a horror movie that refuses to go away.
It bothers me to age; I won’t deny that. I am bothered by what time does to my notions of invincibility. I am not bothered by the inability to remember — but by the inability to forget.