In the country, trucks matter. They are signatures, statements. The country still feels like a male place, with male toys and totems and symbols, something that stands out clearly during hunting season. They seem to frame the times. This truck is one my favorites, a true farm truck, always with hay or tools, always framing the old red barn.

I am hopeful about this Christmas. Many people are anxious, suffering, but many people are thinking, changing. Struggling to find a novel that isn’t about post 9-11 or post Recession Manhattan, and am loving The Art of Disappearing by Ivy Pachoda. Magical book. Put me in mind to tackle my short story in the fading light.