"Thanks, I already have one."
To be useful, a motto must ring true and be terse. I found the above - now my latest greatest motto - in a chapter entitled "Stuff" from Anna Quindlen's 2012 wise memoir "Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake". What a terrific reminder to help me avoid mindless consumerism.
Evangelizing on behalf of Anna Quindlen has become a habit. She has never disappointed me as an essayist, novelist, and now memoirist. Over a lifetime of avid reading, two of my most vivid reading memories involve her work.
The first is how I felt while devouring "Thinking Out Loud" (1993), my first exposure to Quindlen's incisive mind. As each essay in that book pulled me in deeper, I began fantasizing about how great it would be to have her as a friend. It's uncanny how much our way of looking at the world overlaps.
My second clear memory is how profoundly her novel "Every Last One" (2011) shook me. As I finished it, I recall being able to do little else aside from taking a shower and going to bed. And now that I know more about Quindlen's husband and three children, thanks to the chapters called "Next Of Kin" & "Push" in "Lots Of Candles ...", I'm compelled to re-read the earlier novel about the delicate dynamic in that fictional family of five.
Which author has been as steady a source of sustenance for you as Anna Quindlen has been for me?