It was late afternoon and the shadows were slanting swiftly eastward when George Webber came to his senses somewhere in the wilds of the upper Bronx. How he got there he never knew. All he could remember was that suddenly he felt hungry and stopped and looked about him and realized where he was. His dazed look gave way to one of amazement and incredulity, and his mouth began to stretch into a broad grin. In his hand he still held the rectangular slip of crisp yellow paper, and slowly he smoothed out the wrinkles and examined it carefully.

It was a check for five hundred dollars. His book had been accepted, and this was an advance against his royalties.

So he was happier than he had ever been in all his life. Fame, at last, was knocking at his door and wooing him with her sweet blandishments, and he lived in a kind of glorious delirium. The next weeks and months were filled with the excitement of the impending event. The book would not be published till the fall, but meanwhile there was much work to do. Foxhall Edwards had made some suggesting for cutting and revising the manuscript, and, although George at first objected, he surprised himself in the end by agreeing with Edwards, and he undertook to do what Edwards wanted.

George had called his novel Home to Our Mountains, and in it he had packed everything he knew about his home town in Old Catawba and the people there. He had distilled every line of it out of his own experience of life. And, now that the issue was decided, he sometimes trembled when he thought that it would only be a matter of months before the whole world knew what he had written. He loathed the thought of giving pain to anyone, and that he might do so had never occurred to him until now. But now it was out of his hands, and he began to feel uneasy. Of course it was fiction, but it was made as all honest fiction must be, from the stuff of human life. Some people might recognize themselves and be offended, and then what would he do? Would he have to go around in smoked glasses and false whiskers? He comforted himself with the hope that his characterizations were not so true as, in another mood, he liked to think they were, and he thought that perhaps no one would notice anything.

Rodney’s Magazine, too, had become interested in the young author and was going to publish a story, a chapter from the book, in their next number. This news added immensely to his excitement. He was eager to see his name in print, and in the happy interval of expectancy he felt like a kind of universal Don Juan, for he literally loved everybody—his fellow instructors at the school, his drab students, the little shopkeepers in all the stores, even the nameless hordes that thronged the streets. Rodney’s, of course, was the greatest and finest publishing house in all the world, and Foxhall Edwards was the greatest editor and the finest man that ever was. George had liked him instinctively from the first, and now, like an old and intimate friend, he was calling him Fox. George knew that Fox believed in him, and the editor’s faith and confidence, coming as it had come at a time when George had given up all hope, restored his self-respect and charged him with energy for new work.

Already his next novel was begun and was beginning to take shape within him. He would soon have to get it out of him. He dreaded the prospect of buckling down in earnest to write it, for he knew the agony of it. It was like a demoniacal possession, driving him with alien force much greater than his own. While the fury of creation was upon him, it meant sixty cigarettes a day, twenty cups of coffee, meals snatched anyhow and anywhere and at whatever time of day or night he happened to remember he was hungry. It meant sleeplessness, and miles of walking to bring on the physical fatigue without which he could not sleep, then nightmares, nerves, and exhaustion in the morning. As he said to Fox:

“There are better ways to write a book, but this, God help me, is mine, and you’ll have to learn to put up with it.”

When Rodney’s Magazine came out with the story, George fully expected convulsions of the earth, falling meteors, suspension of traffic in the streets, and a general strike. But nothing happened. A few of his friends mentioned it, but that was all. For several days he felt let down, but then his common sense reassured him that people couldn’t really tell much about a new author from a short piece in a magazine. The book would show them who he was and what he could do. It would be different then. He could afford to wait a little longer for the fame which he was certain would soon be his.

Excerpt from You Can’t Go Home Again by Thomas Wolfe, copyright © 1934, 1937, 19 38, 1939, 1940 by Maxwell Perkins as Executor of the Estate of Thomas Wolfe. Copyright renewed © 1968 by Paul Gitlin. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers.

1. Why does George think he would “have to go around in smoked glasses and false whiskers”?

   1. Famous authors have to protect their privacy from admiring strangers.

   2. A disguise would help him gather information for a new book.

   3. If he were going to be a famous writer he had better look the part.

   4. People he had offended might otherwise confront him.

2. According to George’s description, the process of writing a novel:

   1. Was similar to being overwhelmed by an alien spirit.

   2. Was a time filled with unspoken rage.

   3. Was best carried out during times when other people were asleep.

   4. Could only be performed when he was physically exhausted.

3. By saying to Foxhall Edwards that “There are better ways to write a book, but this, God help me, is mine, and you’ll have to learn to put up with it,” George sought to:

   1. Reassure Foxhall that the next book would, in fact, be completed.

   2. Emphasize that the process, though difficult, could not be avoided.

   3. Rebuke Foxhall for not having enough faith in his new project.

   4. Suggest that his own approach to writing was really superior to other approaches.

4. Given George’s expectations concerning the publication of his story in Rodney’s Magazine, the public’s response to the story can best be described as:

   1. Sour.

   2. Appropriate.

   3. Ironic.

   4. Enthusiastic.

5. According to the passage, Foxhall Edwards’ belief in George’s ability was important primarily because:

   1. George needed a friend he could confide in.

   2. Home to Our Mountains required extensive revision.

   3. George needed a friend he could look up to.

   4. Foxhall restored George’s faith in his own work.

6. What was George’s ultimate response to his story’s publication in Rodney’s Magazine?

   1. He refused to accept that the story had few readers.

   2. He expected that fame would come eventually anyway.

   3. He convinced himself that he had never wished for fame.

   4. He lost confidence in himself as a writer.

7. As it is used in the passage, the word wooing means:

   1. Courting.

   2. Confusing.

   3. Admiring.

   4. Bothering.

8. The fact that George “sometimes trembled” when he thought of his novel’s publication indicates that he:

   1. Secretly disliked Foxhall’s suggestions.

   2. Was eager to meet the people back in his home town.

   3. Worried that some people would be hurt by his novel.

   4. Feared that critics would denounce his novel.

9. George’s estimation of his novel’s achievement can best be described as:

   1. Vain but bitter.

   2. Proud but concerned.

   3. Modest but hopeful.

   4. Angry but resigned.

10. The first paragraph suggests that, just prior to the moment at which this passage begins, George has most likely been:

    1. Wandering in dazed excitement after learning that his book would be published.

    2. Walking off nervous tension brought on by working on his second novel.

    3. Trying to find his way home from his book publisher’s office.

    4. In a joyous dream state as a result of being relieved of his financial difficulties.