The bookstore's had three copies of Susan Minot's Evening for some time. We had an Internet order for one on Friday evening and for the other two on Saturday morning.
Oh, no...I said to myself...Minot didn't die, did she? I'd seen that phenomenon before. A good, but neglected writer dies and all of the sudden his or her book becomes a hot item. This had been true for Art Buchwald and his memoirs. It had been true for Wendy Wasserstein.
I knew Minot was roughly my age, and I was asking myself how could she have died so young?
Silly me. I finally figured it out. Minot did not die. Someone had the good sense to turn her book into a movie. Evening the movie stars Vanessa Redgrave, Meryl Streep, and Claire Danes. I'll have to go see it when it opens in Denver.
I think I like the phenomenon of books into movies better than the phenomenon of authors into graveyards. In her spare time, Miss P may start working on a script or two. It could be a fine way of moving books off shelves.
Hello, Hollywood? It's Miss Prothero calling.
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