YEAH WRITE!

theparisreview:

Flannery O’Connor’s bedroom, where the author did most of her writing. The aluminum crutches shown in the photograph were to help the author walk around her ancestral farm, Andalusia, in Milledgeville, Georgia, due to systemic lupus erythematosus. While only expected to live for five more years after the diagnosis, O’Connor survived for fourteen more, completing more than two dozen short stories and two novels until her death on August 3, 1964, at the age of thirty-nine.

I’ve been reading stories from A Good Man is Hard to Find piece-meal all summer. Sometimes I find her really hard to read—not in an “I don’t like this story” or “the writing is bad” way; her characters are just so difficult and the writing makes me feel so weird and uncomfortable that I can’t read it if I’m even feeling slightly blue. But that’s just proof of how amazing it is. And the title story made my heart start beating to hard and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.