I began researching a potential full-life biography of William Stafford in early 2021 as I was awaiting production and publication of my book about Evan S. Connell. I knew there was no biography of Stafford, though his son, Kim, had written a memoir focused much on his father, Early Mornings, published in 2002. Others had written critical works and poetic studies over the years. But no biography, per se. As is my usual practice, I plunged in recklessly, “recklessly” I would eventually learn being a favorite Stafford expression of jolly communication, gossip, and creative expression. I had met Stafford a couple of times in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. And, in researching in his papers at Lewis & Clark College in Portland, Oregon, I even found a photograph of me and Stafford together at a book event in 1992. It took a while of poking around before I reminded myself that I wrote about the poet after his death in August 1993. Reading that article recently turned out to be a revelation. I was finding some of the same phraseology and ideas about Stafford that I was using again today. Could it be that I actually began this project 30 years ago? Weird to think so. But as I think about what this new blog will end up doing, even as I continue to peck away at this potential book, it seemed a reasonable place to start. Of the published article, Sept. 5, 1993, in The Kansas City Star, I’d say that there are a couple of sentences I would probably correct now that I know much more than I knew back then. But, as know, journalism is the first draft of history. Many revisions await.