I was just thinking of Kurt Vonnegut over the weekend. I might’ve even had a dream about him, where it was declared by me or someone else that he was the greatest American writer. And now, lo and behold, there’s an interview in The Rumpus with Nanette, his daughter, and we’re coming up on what would’ve been his 90th birthday. This is really a lovely piece and everyone should read it. As an aside, she briefly mentions her time in Northampton with him, and I was working in the hotel there one day when someone said he’d been in to eat at its café. That always made me feel a personal connection with the man, even though I hadn’t actually seen him.