Years ago on New Year’s Eve, I wrote to an old friend a letter which has extractable paragraphs about my aversion to autobiographical writing, which
I want to overcome during 2022:
One reason I resisted autobiography was that I was so oriented to new experiences, new learning, always trekking on, as if looking back was infidelity to a glorious horizon.
And who would care to read the story? Everybody’s got a story...
Stories are usually for some market, which I could never care to entertain. My life, any life, is really nobody else’s concern.