Since receiving the National Book Award for "Victory Over Japan in 1985, Ellen Gilchrist has developed a fervently devoted readership. This collection's new novella is vintage Gilchrist, taking on the continuing joys and perils of Nora Jane and company.
This book was recommended to me last summer by a former teacher who is also an Episcopalian minister. In December, I entered a "Secret Santa" drawing involving alumni of my alma mater (Grinnell College whaaaaat) and, per statistical probability, drew a woman I'd never met (Which is a good thing! ...
Home for the summer in Alabama, Rhoda Manning seems blessed: her daddy is very rich, she is newly slim, and all of her friends adore her. But the passionate, independent Rhoda begins to realize that life is more than her comfortable, secure existence would suggest. As Rhoda strains against the co...
Clearly I have to have a book to accompany a William Faulkner book. I need something to let me escape the Faulkner incomprehensibility. So I found this Ellen Gilchrist on my shelf. I cannot remember it right off but see that it is a used book of short stories by a Southern woman. All categories t...
Enhanced with fifteen new essays, the benchmark of an acclaimed writer's spunk and sense of place Ellen Gilchrist has amassed a nationwide following, and her readers eagerly anticipate each new short story collection and novel. The sassy and moving commentaries she recorded for National Public Ra...
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It was Sunday morning and Freddy and Nora Jane were on the patio reading the Sunday newspapers and watching Zandia, who was brandishing a plastic sword in the air. He was standing on a ladder by the fence that separated the houses and pretending to poke them with the sword to punish them for igno...
I’ll be there Sunday morning at four. It’s called the Night Owl flight in case you forget the number. The number’s 349. If you can’t come get me I’ll get a taxi and come on over. I saw Johnny Vidocovitch last night. He’s got a new bass player. He told Ron he could afford to get married now that h...
I love these letters. They are a perfect match for me at this time in my life. George Sand was a settled grandmother of fifty-seven when she began this correspondence with a despairing Flaubert. She had given up her wild life and gone to live among her family in the French countryside near Nohant...
The storm had come in from the north and knocked down power lines all the way from Greenville to the Grace Post Office. It was 1944, and people knew what to do when that happened. Even before the lights went out, Jimmy’s great-grandmother got out six lanterns and set them ...
We didn’t talk about it much. We just decided to go on and try to be happy. Who knows, maybe having the world seem like it’s coming apart draws people to the things they really love. Maybe it’s fear. Anyway, Bobby Tree and I settled down to make a new start. We’d been loving each other since we w...