Postcard from Faulkner’s grave

Hello from in Oxford, Mississippi, where I have consumed approximately fifty-nine pounds of fried catfish and seventy gallons of sweet tea and enough wine to give an ox a migraine.

I won’t start getting into everything I ate in the Delta, but if you ever find yourself in Greenwood, don’t miss the Crystal’s coconut pie. It’s a near-religious experience, provided you don’t slip into a diabetic coma.

Tomorrow we drive back to Nashville and I fly home to Brooklyn. Though it’s hard to imagine so much as rousing myself from this public computer to walk downstairs to my hotel room, I’m sure I’ll somehow manage to waddle out to the taxi line with my overloaded suitcase. I can’t wait to tell you about Rowan Oak, etc.

Image of Faulkner’s grave taken from this Ole Miss site.


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