Maybe in a past life?

It’s been a while since I shared something from my daily calendar, but I find this entry especially amusing.  I have a particular fondness for Southern writer, Carson McCullers.  In fact, there are many Southern writers I feel an affinity for.  I have no idea why.  I’ve never lived anywhere but the Southwestern desert and I imagine the way of life here to be as far from similar to growing up in the south as someone from New York City’s experience would be.  Nevertheless, Tennessee Williams, McCullers, Mark Twain, Katherine Ann Porter and, dear God let us not forget one of  the venerable Godmothers of Romance, Margaret Mitchell all rank among my favorites.

Anyway, I find this tidbit quite charming.

Carson McCullers had a special affinity for Russian writers, such as Anton Chekhov, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Turgenev, and Leo Tolstoy.  She also had a knack for bumping into their relatives on public transportation.  One day she and her mother were on a bus bound for New York City when they struck up a conversation with a regal-looking Russian woman.  Mama McCullers was going on and on about her daughter’s literary prowess when the woman remarked that her father had

Tolstoy with his granddaughter. How cute is this picture?

 also been a writer.  Her name? Countess Tolstoy.

That sounds exactly like something that would happen to me.  Open mouth and insert foot.  Not that Carson wasn’t an excellent writer, but I suspect way more people recognize Tolstoy than do McCullers.  It’s a shame really.  Tolstoy is great, but McCullers could wrap a lot of emotion into a novella.  If you doubt me, pick up a copy of The Ballad of the Sad Cafe.  You won’t be sorry.