I have been thinking hard about what to do with all my prison material and knowledge and realized, I am not really in a position to increase activism in a truly meaningful way, and/but I should write a series of Atlantic-type (perhaps) articles on what I know. I never feel I know a great deal but it has been pointed out to me more than once how much I do know, and someone did say recently I should write it down — although that suggestion is not how I came to this conclusion tonight.
All my novels freeze in their tracks as life changes, but this would be a piece of creative or journalistic writing I could sustain. I was born to write. This story begins, like all stories, with a chance encounter. “Debo a la conjunción de un espejo y de una enciclopedia el descubrimiento de Uqbar. El espejo inquietaba el fondo de un corredor en una quinta de la calle Gaona, en Ramos Mejía; la enciclopedia falazmente se llama. . . .”