I started crying after about half a chapter of this book. Pure jealousy. Ann Patchett can write like Michael Phelps can swim. Like Bill Clinton can work a crowd. Impressive and deceptive. Can’t be that easy! This book of essays covers everything from — of course — her marriage to her dog, her bookstore, her grandmother, her writing practice, her friendship with a childhood teacher, Sister Nena. Mostly essays previously published that I had nevertheless never read which only proves that I am not reading nearly enough. Thanks AP for the book!
Post a Comment