In this imaginative journal, set against fresh and vivid scenes in Chicago, the author has outlined what must seem to many others an uncannily accurate delineation of themselves.
The New York Times, 1944
Reading a novel is kind of a strange experience: there are voices in your head telling you a story, often pretending you’re there in the room with them—or, even stranger, pretending that you are inside their minds. Books in the form of a diary are much less strange to contemplate: it’s perfectly reasonable to imagine you’ve picked […]