Getting Better

The only thing that would have made this any better is Four Loko. Oh, wait.

Here’s Chris Jones: An ancient oak tree stood behind the main house, and the dozen of us ducked under its branches on the walk back to the screen house after lunch on Saturday. We’d pulled from a giant, delicious pot of Brunswick stew, with sides of salad, cornbread, and big glasses of sweet tea. Now we dodged the Spanish moss and vines that hung from the oak tree.

A breeze came through the screen house and each of us picked up our rustling piles of newspaper and magazine stories and the opening chapters of unfinished novels. We had all written something to contribute to the pile, and now we began to talk again about what worked about them and what didn’t work about them and wondered aloud whether we might become great if only we could better figure out the difference.