When I was halfway through writing school, the program promised us a famous visitor:

The journalist, memoirist, and novelist Joyce Maynard.

Unfairly, everyone said one thing about her (as if that’s all there was to say):

“She used to be J.D. Salinger’s girlfriend!”

“Who’s that?” I said.

I loved writing more than I loved reading back then.

“J.D. SALINGER!” shouted the person I was talking to. We’ll call him “Julian,” what else?

Julian screamed, “The Catcher in the Rye guy!”

“Baseball?”