“As a child, I es­caped into the arms of lit­er­a­ture. I adored Chekhov’s short sto­ries, Dick­ens, Austen, Eliot (both Ge­orge and T.S.), Henry James, and, of course, Shake­speare. My step­fa­ther was the poet Robert Low­ell, and my mother, Caro­line Black­wood, was a won­der­ful and wickedly funny nov­el­ist. I ad­mire any writer who sits down ev­ery day and creates some­thing out of noth­ing; it is so hard, not very re­ward­ing, and, ul­ti­mately, only a very few peo­ple are go­ing to read it any­way. I ad­mire any­one who keeps plug­ging away be­cause they have some­thing they want to share with com­plete strangers.”

writer an­drew solomon’s home li­brary | man­hat­tan

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