Cultivating My Inner Roger

By Charlotte Adamis

At 62, I finally understand what it means to cultivate my inner Roger.

Roger was the happiest writer I’ve ever met.

We were members of a writing group when I was in my early 20s and he was probably twice as old. Roger always came to our gatherings with a ream of typed papers, putting the rest of us to shame with his productivity—and his apparent bliss.

He was working on a novel, as I recall, loosely based on his life, and he didn’t seem to worry that it wasn’t ...