“I worked four days a week on The [Wapshot] Chronicle, with intense happiness.  On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I had a course in advanced composition at Barnard College.  My weekends went roughly like this.  On Saturday mornings, I played touch football until the noon whistle blew, when I drank Martinis for an hour or so with friends.  On Saturday afternoons, I played Baroque music on the piano or recorder with an ensemble group.  On Saturday nights, my wife and I either entertained or were entertained by friends.  Eight o’clock Sunday morning found me at the Communion rail, and the Sunday passed pleasantly, according to the season, in skiing, scrub hockey, swimming, football, or backgammon.  This sport was occasionally interrupted by the fact that I drove the old Mack engine for the volunteer fire department and also bred black Labrador retrievers.  As I approached the close of the novel, there were, in my workroom, eight Labrador puppies, and on my desk the Barnard themes, the fire-department correspondence, [and] The Wapshot Chronicle….”

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