There was, in her writing, often a very deliberate, confident moment of calling attention to herself-an attempt to startle, to pierce with words and meaning-and then a more modest retreat. Fireworks, followed by starlight. ... Yet she wrote fearlessly and sometimes explicitly about bodies and sex, death, crime, tragedy-the damage people inflict on one another in the name of love.
Reading her stories, you merge with her characters and also with yourself. ... The details in her stories are vividly specific, and yet the emotional and psychological plots could unfold anywhere. You sink into her narratives with a feeling of both strangeness and recognition.
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