Author: Max Hardberger
There could not have been a greater disconnect than that between my literary life and my everyday life. Small and thin, the youngest child in my grade, I was an easy target for bullies. And with a preternaturally sharp tongue, I was easily capable of provoking them. In the pages of the books I read, I could outwit pirates, escape buccaneers, and drink rum companionably with my shipmates in seedy waterfront bars from Havana to Pernambuco. To a lonely fifteen-year-old, the disconnect between my interior life and my real life became almost intolerable.
Escaping reality can be fun. It is coming back that is hard.