Were I to write a Mari Sandoz biopic, I'd start with a shadow racing across her desk.I'd start at 3:30 p.m. on Wednesday, Jan. 16, 1935.I'd start with a 39-year-old hayseed thin as a fence post and prickly as barbed wire assaulting her typewriter on the ninth floor of the Nebraska State Capitol as a local bank teller plunges 135 feet to his death on the stone transept below.
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