Kurt Vonnegut died. I have been feeling uneasy about his health for a while now, well, just knowing that he was pretty old, knowing that we don’t last forever etc etc. I knew he’d go soonish. It breaks my heart, a little bit.
I’m reading Jailbird, coincidentally, at the moment. It’s a really good one. I always found his world and his voice so utterly faithful. So direct, so honest, such clear vision (by which I mean I related to his perspective, I suppose. I get that that’s subjective). He’s pretty much my favourite.
There’s something lonely about loving a writer's work, ain't there?
What can you say, really *sigh*. If we could only conquer time and space!
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1 comment:
If only.
>There’s something lonely about
>loving a writer's work, ain't there?
Yeah. Even when, as in this case, you're far from alone.
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