Charlotte, smiling on her 97th birthday, when she asked me, "Have I missed anything?" My reply is part of the post to which this picture is linked, as is a recent fan letter she received and some questions about immortality, immorality, writing, and timelessness...
I have been her. Though never in an outdoor tub...
I really want to buy this book, extract all of the pages, frame them, and then put them up in my son's room. This illustrators work is all painted on wood and I think it is gorgeous!
Charlotte, her husband Maurice just behind her, at their daughter's wedding to Ned Shank. October 20, 1977, Wenona Springs Church, Eureka Springs, Arkansas. Their daughter: Crescent Dragonwagon, writer, who is pinning this pucture. Photographer: Louise Terzia
A bookmark put out by Charlotte's publisher, Harper & Row... which dates it as 1989- or earlier, since the company became HarperCollins in 1990. The quote is so her.
The ache of a child for an absent father, imagined, lost without ever being known --- how does a mother speak to that ache (and even allude to her own), with integrity toards the child's feelings and viewpoints, with truthfulness and non-fact hope? Don't ask me how Charlotte was able to do this in the book *a later edition, with contemporary illustrations). But she did. And does, every time a reader picks up this story.
Garth Williams, Over and Over
the 1985 novel The Year It Rained, by WCDH's co-founder Crescent Dragonwagon (that would be me), me) is now available on Kindle. Main characters are almost all writers or aspiring writers or editors. And it has a lot of sex. And it's two dollars & ninety-nine cents (spelled out so Pinterest doesn't put that tacky ribbon with price across corner). What more could you ask?