When she was a boy, Jennifer Finney Boylan grew up with ghosts.
Her family's Victorian house, crumbling among the impeccable and impressive digs
populating the Pennsylvania Main Line, also housed a number of spectral
residents who had met unfortunate, sorrowful ends. A sensitive and slight boy,
James Boylan resigned himself to cohabitating with the resident ghosts and their
door-slammings, wall-whisperings, and flashes in the mirror with a sensible mix
of terror, curiosity, sympathy, and humor. Which is kind of how Boylan related
Back then I knew very little for certain about whatever
it was that afflicted me, but I did know this much: that in order to
survive, I'd have to become something like a ghost myself, and keep the
nature of my true self hidden. And so I haunted that young body of mine
just as the spirits...