Novelist, playwright, story writer, poet. So fine a writer may write his own obituary. So here is Morris’s. On his childhood: “I was the only person in my class—probably in the whole school—who wanted to be a comic-strip artist. They were all dreamers. There they sat, the astronomer, the nuclear physicist, the business tycoon (on the Stock Exchange), two mathematicians, three farmers, countless chemists, a handful of doctors, all aged thirteen and all with their heads in the clouds. Dreamers! Idle speculators! A generation of hopeless romantics! It was a Friday night, I recall, when I put the finishing touches…