William Styron died a couple weeks ago, and it seemed as if the world hardly noticed. I didn't see any of the usual short bios on network news, and only a small article on the second or third page of the local paper. The following week it was in a couple of the news magazines we get.

According to Styron, "A great book should leave you with many experiences, and slightly exhausted. You should live several lives while reading it." His books lived up to that and more. I fell in love with his writing while reading "The Confessions of Nat Turner", backtracked to read his previous ones and then waited and waited for the next ones. His books were few and far between, but I'll miss that anticipation and I regret knowing there will be no others.

Meanwhile, the ones he did write are sitting there on my bookshelf like old friends. And like old friends, they maintain the power to make me laugh, or cry, or gasp at the wonder of their words. They will be re-read, new favorite passages noted, old ones savored.