We’ve had a good run here at Literary Features Syndicate–over thirty years!–and we are eternally grateful to our loyal readers, to the publishing houses for furnishing us with great nourishment, and to the authors and illustrators who kindly shared their wisdom with us. Thank you.

This site will now exist as a repository for prior work.

But we’re not leaving the interwebs. Nick continues to write about the book world and its inhabitants. You’ll find his books and updates on new projects here: https://www.nicholasbasbanes.com/

Barbara is helping authors find their voices (maybe yours!) on the printed page at her ghostwriting firm: https://www.ininkghostwriting.com/

I leave you with this poem by Edmond Haraucourt. Merci!

Partir, c’est mourir un peu,
C’est mourir à ce qu’on aime :
On laisse un peu de soi-même
En toute heure et dans tout lieu.

C’est toujours le deuil d’un vœu,
Le dernier vers d’un poème ;
Partir, c’est mourir un peu,
C’est mourir à ce qu’on aime.

Et l’on part, et c’est un jeu,
Et jusqu’à l’adieu suprême
C’est son âme que l’on sème,
Que l’on sème à chaque adieu :
Partir, c’est mourir un peu…

Edmond Haraucourt – Rondel de l’adieu (1890)

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