On Being Rich
These are tough economic times for all of us. If you don't believe me, turn on the news. Or try making your living as a writer of novels in an age where Sarah Palin , Joe the Plumber, and Miley Cyrus command seven figure advances-- and the top spots on the best sellers lists (not that I have issues or anything:)) Yet even in the current economic climate I feel blessed. Did I say blessed? No, I feel rich. I feel obscenely wealthy, I feel absolutely hedonistic; I am rolling in abundance. Why? Because it's December: the longest, darkest night of the year is approaching, and on my bedside table is a stack of crisp, new, unturned hardcover books. I am almost afraid to open them. Sometimes I just walk around the table, looking at them. Occasionally my hand will drift toward one of them and stroke its glossy cover and then quickly, shyly, withdraw. I don't want to use up the magic too soon. It's only December, after all. There have been winters when