I realized the other day that I always seem to start my stories with the scenery or the weather, and the first rule of contemporary writing—as opposed to classical or traditional writing—is never start a story with the scenery or the weather. So I’m not going to mention that it was another lovely day, filtered sunshine, cool but not cold, warm but not hot, windstill but not oppressive, breakers crashing off the rocks down below our bucolic hamlet (little ham), Buzz the larcenous sea lion barking impressively on the beach, a huge cruise ship maundering along up the coast about two miles out to sea…oh gosh, I seem to have broken the first rule of contemporary writing again.