His Glassy Essence:
An Autobiography of Charles Sanders Peirce
A mystery from Boston unfolds
DEAR READER: My identity is insignificant, but ultimately of no importance. You need to understand a bit about me. I’m known as a mystery writer by trade, but I’m an amateur by inclination and instinct. I mean that I thrive on some childlike
qualities in my mind, and it gives me a way to live one day after another. Because of those instincts and habits, I can see things, little bits of life, that most people overlook. In that respect, my amateur lifestyle helps me write. But my dilettante ways, now that I reflect are more important to me than writing. My reasonably capable detective novels are the means to finance my status as a lifelong novice in a number of other pursuits. Writing also gives me freedom for dabbling, because, thank God, it isn’t a nine-to-five job. I can make up a new story when I feel like doing it. I get enough royalty checks to live as a member of the comfortable middle class in old Boston with Elizabeth and our poodle; I haven’t written the great American mystery novel yet, but hope eternal springs. I might get lucky. But I’m not breaking my neck to do it – that would mean less time for my amateurism....
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