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61 YADDO I’m at Yaddo sheltering myself from the drizzle standing under a tree reading Philip Roth’s The Great American Novel waiting for my friends Joe and Carol Bruchac to arrive with four friends from Canada who are in Saratoga Springs, New York, to give a poetry reading, Bruce Meyer, Richard Harrison, Robert Lawrence and Ross Leckie, when up pulls this big shiny car which I approach smiling thinking it’s Joe and Carol, but it’s Burns International Security Services, Inc. and the man wants to know if Yaddo has anything more than “internal security.” “I’m John Weidman,” he says. “You must be a writer.” “Yep.” “What’s your name?” “Sward, my name is Robert Sward, like greensward.” “Oh,” he says, disappointed he doesn’t know any of my books but still impressed to be meeting a Yaddo author. I should have said, “My name is Philip Roth, John, and this is my new book, 62 The Great American Novel, but as usual I think of things like that too late. “Look,” he says, handing me his business card, J.W. Weidman Security Sales Consultant, “Mention my name in your next book, okay?” ...

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