Toni Morrison
I still remember the brief section of shelf at the old Reynolds Township library and how I went through her books that stood on it, one by one. The force of her prose blew my young mind away. I remember how it started, the feathery feel of the copy of Beloved that I read, lent to me by a to-be-estranged aunt. She had read it for a university course, it had a yellow sticker on it: Used. I felt like I had found a bed of gold. And though I can’t remember much about the differences between the plot lines of each book—those things have never been important for me anyway—it was with Toni Morrison’s voice that I found myself enthralled.
The Bluest Eyes, Song of Solomon, Sula, Beloved, Tar Baby
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