Burden of Plenty

I would write much of the manuscript during solitary marathon sessions in a cabin in the Alberta woods. That, at least, had been the plan. I had been offered a stay in a magical land of exception, the Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity. I had never gone to a residency, nor did I know anyone who had. But I knew what a rare opportunity it was: I would become a father a few months later, and I would not have a similar period of calm for years to come.

The small cabin held a large reserve of coffee and a view of the Rocky Mountains. There was a whiteboard, paper, drawerfuls of pens. There was even a piano. Forget Walden Pond, I thought when I arrived. Thoreau never had it so good. For those two weeks, scarcity was abolished. I had been taken out of the menial obligations of daily life, the routine distractions of cooking, cleaning, and commuting. I was free at last to engage in the...