 I'm making breakfast and kids' lunches the morning after the Oscars and my wife saunters into the kitchen with 97 percent more zip in her step than is customary for this part of her day. "Larry McMurtry," says she,"thanked me last night." Personally? Well no, along with all the other booksellers in the country.
And it is a nice nod to an honorable profession. McMurtry's just the man to bestow the recognition, as he was a bookseller himself not too long ago. I must admit though, when I think of him, it's the story of how he got his start that excites me.
He was in Wallace Stegners writing program at Stanford, a nobody sitting in a circle of students listening to fellow unknown, Ken Kesey, spin yarns about life in a mental institution, which week by week grew into "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest". Potent stuff to sit next to for any would-be writer! Posted by busmun, 03/07/2006 03:41:52 |
