I read somewhere that Harry Crews was a big influence in Michael Connelly’s life, both as a teacher and a writer. But Connelly said of Crews’ body of work, the book that affected him most was his memoir, “A Childhood”, so I just picked it up.
I’ve never read anything by Harry Crews before, but just flipping through the book, stuff jumps out.
It has always seemed to me that I was not so much born into this life as I awakened to it.
Her old soft voice got sharp when she demanded that I believe.
I reached out and touched my right hand with my left, and the whole thing came off like a wet glove. I mean, the skin on the top of the wrist and the back of my hand, along with the fingernails, all just turned loose and slid onto the ground. I could see the fingernails lying in the little puddle my flesh made on the ground in front of me.
I think I’m going to enjoy Harry Crews.