We lived in a four-room house at the edge of the country, at the foot of the mountains, outside a small town in North Carolina, but it could have been anywhere. I was the brother in a father-mother-brother-sister family. I wore blue jeans with the cuffs turned up and horizontally striped pullover shirts. In July 1969, I looked a lot like Opie in the second or third season of The Andy Griffin Show. Here’s a sample of his writing from Somehow Form a Family: I no longer have a copy of it, but Jim the Boy came back to me with a jolt of deep pleasure when I saw his name in The New Yorker. The prose was honed to perfection in a way that few writers can attain. It’s a coming of age story about a ten year old boy in 1934 in North Carolina. When I read Jim the Boy, I was amazed at its sweetness and simplicity.
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