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No wonder, he thought, that the panhandle people were a godly lot, for they lived in sudden, violent atmospheres. Weather kept them humble.

Annie Proulx

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Annie Proulx
Age: 89
Born: 1935
Born: August 22
Author
Journalist
Librettist
Non-Fiction Writer
Novelist
Screenwriter
Norwich
Connecticut
E. Annie Proulx
E.A. Proulx
Edna Annie Proulx
Edna Ann Proulx
Kept
Atmospheres
Lived
Cowboy
Wonder
Godly
Thought
Sudden
People
Atmosphere
Weather
Violent
Humble

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Everybody that went away suffered a broken heart. I'm coming back some day, they all wrote. But never did. The old life was too small to fit anymore.
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He pressed his face into the fabric and breathed in slowly through his mouth and nose, hoping for the faintest smoke and mountain sage and salty sweet stink of Jack but there was no real scent, only the memory of it, the imagined power of Brokeback Mountain of which nothing was left but what he held in his hands.
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I find it satisfying and intellectually stimulating to work with the intensity, brevity, balance and word play of the short story.
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I rarely use the internet for research, as I find the process cumbersome and detestable. The information gained is often untrustworthy and couched in execrable prose. It is unpleasant to sit in front of a twitching screen suffering assault by virus, power outage, sluggish searches, system crashes and the lack of direct human discourse.
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You should write because you love the shape of stories and sentences and the creation of different words on a page. Writing comes from reading, and reading is the finest teacher of how to write.
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And it may be that love sometimes occurs without pain or misery.
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... there are four women in every man’s heart. The Maid in the Meadow, the Demon Lover, the Stouthearted Woman, the Tall and Quiet Woman.
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I wish I knew how to quit you.
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Their silence comfortable. Something unfolding. But what? Not love, which wrenched and wounded. Not love, which came only once.
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I am influenced by words and the chewiness of language
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We're all strange inside. We learn how to disguise our differences as we grow up.
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Anyway, there's something wrong with everybody and it's up to you to know what you can handle.
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Change itself is what fascinates me. I am drawn, as a moth to the flame, by edge situations, by situations of metamorphosis.
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I think it's important to leave spaces in a story for readers to fill in from their own experience.
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Ordinary parties, he thought, were subtle games of sexual and social badminton.
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You know, one of the tragedies of real life is that there is no background music.
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There was some open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe, but nothing could be done about it, and if you can't fix it you've got to stand it.
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If a piece of knotted string can unleash the wind, and if a drowned man can awaken, then I believe a broken man can heal.
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Wonderful ... I was up all night reading it, laughing and crying out in horror.
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Develop craftsmanship through years of wide reading.
Annie Proulx