I am to the last convinced that any man "with truth on his side is a fool as well as a coward if he is afraid to own it…” Thus the dreadful portrait of myself I display (left) for autobiographical purposes. Curse the post.
There have been critics who have found my life and works lackluster, offensive even, because I celebrate the rogue and care not for snobbery. True, I am the outsider, born neither high nor low and bold enough to noncomform, but judge me dear reader, not by name but by my words.
I do confess I am a rogue at heart. My experiences have shaped my literary adventures. You may accuse that I look both ways; or perhaps that I write so plainly as to shock my readers through a scheming nature and with "sneaky ingenuity." I ask of you, instead, to reconsider my sensitivity to the solitary natures and ambitions of the rogues for whom I speak. I speak to them, and perhaps to you, but for certain to those like me who are tempted far too often and much by prosperity, and too pitifully stubborn to be satisfied with what Heaven provides.