So I’m shutting down Summing Up for a while. The summer maybe. Maybe for good. It did what I wanted to do–work on my first-person writing–but it didn’t really do anything else. I love a good Somerset Maugham novel, but he’s really not worth too close an inspection. Life’s short, read better books and all. But you get a kick out of him nonetheless. Maugham pretends to write himself like Herbert Marshall, no doubt, but he was really writing material for Clifton Webb.
As for right now on Summing Up, I’m shuttering it. Closed for the season.