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The gift of a story

August 6, 2012

A woman that made me love writing died last week. Her writing is what I respected, and as a byproduct, I associated a love for reading as well. I didn’t just want to read her books; I wanted to write with her talent! She had a wonderful way of telling stories. I felt like she was a sister, a friend, and I was sitting across the table from her during tea while she strung words together to create life.

Maeve Binchy was the first writer that made me eager for her next novel. Her novels weren’t racy and didn’t include gory death. Her themes were realistic and highlighted the dichotomy of life. She portrayed strong business women who were weak in relationships, families whose relationships were based on respect not love, and friends whose relationships were real family because of the unconditional love they provided. Binchy creatively wrote of female characters who simply wanted success in business, marriage, and parenthood; and the use of themes such as Irish tempers, stubbornness, Catholicism and righteousness helped me understand and relate my heritage as I hung on each word she so eloquently wrote.

Maeve Binchy knew people and seamlessly created characters to which her readers could easily relate. We could candidly replace our own names and towns to her characters and locations. She had a marvelous way of describing human nature and making you want more. I loved her ability to weave together novels so that with each new book you learned more about her supporting cast.

I must say I am crushed to learn of Maeve Binchy’s death and am completely mourning her passing. I longed for her next novel.  I longed to meet her next protagonist and the internal struggles of all her characters. 

Thank you Maeve Binchy for the many gifts you gave.

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