She lived, she wrote, she died. And just before her end came at ninety-eight, her novel was published by a university press. (Decades earlier, Bennett Cerf of Random House had praised it, yet killed it.) A trick of fate that Steinbeck’s book beat hers to the printers, but fate is known to be a trickster. We all have suffered at his hand; he is busy, indeed.
Sanora Babb’s novel lived sixty-five years of its life in a drawer. A life, yes, because a manuscript has a life, its characters smothered within its unturned pages, clamoring to be caressed, screaming to be heard. Now due to the magic of television, this book Whose Names Are Unknown --- Sanora’s novel --- has attained Amazon’s bestseller status. I predict further printings.
Congratulations, Sanora. Like the fields of “The Dust Bowl,” you are reborn.
Causes Mara Buck Supports
Kennebec Valley Humane Society, Amnesty International