walking the Mean Streets of Medieval York
Here in the States we celebrate Thanksgiving Day on the last Thursday of November, pausing to count our blessings. I have so much to be grateful for, work to engage me, nature to inspire me, remarkable scholars to shine a light on a period of time that intrigues me, readers who enjoy my work, family and friends and colleagues (and a feline) who buoy my spirits and share my life, the witch hazel that has burst into tiny yellow blossoms outside my office window, and all of you who follow my blog or pop in from time to time. For all this and much much more, I am grateful.
I am grateful, too, for the books of PD James. As you know, I just spent a month or more savoring her book Talking About Detective Fiction, and learning this morning of her death I felt as if I were receiving the news of a beloved house guest’s demise. I’ve spent the past few hours reading the tributes popping up everywhere. I needn’t repeat them. But I’d like to share my favorite quote, one that echoes my own feelings about my work:
I think while I am alive, I shall write. There will be a time to stop writing but that will probably be when I come to a stop, too.
Thank you, all of you, for sharing the art of storytelling and the Middle Ages with me.