She was an awkward smart aleck from the South that wrote stark, true stories. She loved birds. She went to Mass everyday during Iowa's Writer's Conference. She knew she was brilliant, and honored her genius through hard work and a monastic lifestyle. It wasn't hubris, it was focus. She lived a determined life. She thought deeply about faith, life and God. There's nothing frou-frou about her. Apparently, she had a very nasal Southern drawl and the drollest sense of humor around. She died of Lupus at a young age and didn't seem to bury herself with self pity. She wasn't pretty in a culture that judged women by that sole criterium; she didn't care. She had some very deep, lifelong friendships. She loved people, but her love lacked sentimentality. She believed in the power and value of art. She strove for perfection. She believed in sin. She makes Christianity appealing for those of us who aren't nice.
She makes me want to write a short story. She makes me do a double take on my everyday experience.
Quotations:
"The truth will make you odd."
"You tell a story because a statement would be inadequate. When anybody asks what a story is about, the only proper thing is to tell them to read the story. The meaning of fiction is not abstract meaning but experienced reading, and the purpose of making statements about the meaning of a story is only to help you experience that meaning more fully."
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