I’m just going to look at two sections of Julian’s piece, from his second draft. Here’s what’s happening in these sections, and what my comments focused on: a) There is far too…

Half of the signs along the tarmac road are crossed out.  Driving by, I can make out the names of businesses – Kudu Lodge, Zebra Handicrafts, Njake Oil – only faintly under…

I WATCHED THE BOY MOVE. Thin, dark, in tattered pants and flip-flops, he walked slowly along the river’s steep embankment. He carried a wooden spear, his eyes hunting the small black birds…

Even before I became a part of his family, I often thought of my Hindi teacher, Virendra-ji, as my grandfather, simply because the two reminded me so much of each other. Both…