John Irving has been one of my go-to authors, and inspirations for my own writing, for more than four decades. I’ve loved all his books that I’ve read. There are several I have not read. I’m saving them. I don’t want to run out of John Irving books to read before I depart this life. This one is hefty, weighing in at almost 900 pages. And each page is infused with life, love, humor, sorrow, hope and impending death. I remember reading about his approach to writing, that he writes the last sentence of a story and then writes toward that sentence. Knowing this, once I got there, I spent some time reading that final sentence over and over… then the last paragraph again… then the last page again… and that final sentence a few more times just to ponder. And, of course, that final sentence is perfect for this story.
I maintain an active goodreads page where I you can check out the reviews I’ve written of the books I’ve read.