I got it in my head that I would reread all of Raymond Carver's stories from his collection "Where I'm Calling From," which I read years ago and was the book of my life for a few months, and is still one of my favorites. I have a natural affinity for him partially because of geography (West Coaster), but there is also without a doubt something about his stories that just claw at me.
I remember reading "Cathedral," easily on my top-ten-stories-of-all-time list. I was living in California at the time, and I rushed to the library to get an atlas to look up Port Angeles, where it said he lived in the biographical blurb. (The collection I was reading from was published when he was still alive, but when I was actually reading it he had already passed away). It remains to me one of those stories that seems utterly unsurpassable, nearly perfect, the kind of story fiction writers would nearly give up their life to write.
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