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to him for 2 years since we punched each other out up at a farm in Michigan. He works heroically on in his Hammond basement so far as I know.

   Perrill - the pretty boy poet - is living in northern Michigan writing on a novel the last I heard a year ago.
   Algren went to live in New Jersey I heard.  Probably close to some racetrack.
   A girl up a lonely road here in the hills has a copy of THE DISINHERITED in her old weathered bookcase so we were friends right away.
   The area where I live is much the same as the Big Sur coast of Miller and that Robinson Jeffers described.  Beautiful.  Like all the world.  Like even the fields around Moberly.
   Ah, yes, Jack, I discern that it is not literature that lasts nor is it literature that we seek, but something of the soul, huh?   There is something in each of us that is guide and destination and it is that which outlives even masterpieces and that is where we will find our Joy.  I hope you have found yours and that each day goes well with you.  Did you print anymore of the autobiography, or anything else recently?  May your pencil never dull.

Love, Frank Dunlap