I was dismayed when I was assigned to another man's section and I've regretted it since. Stegner had that year published a novel, "The Big Rock Candy Mountain," obviously autobiographical in origin, about a family moving around in a West where the spaces then as now were vacant and demanding.
Hepworth IssueSummer Stegner apologized that his markings are not more revealing: It takes me many rewritings to get a first draft, and all the chapters that went into it have been thrown away successively until I get something that will read consecutively.
I go through that with an editing pencil and retype it to make a relatively clear second draft. Turn the conversation too far in this direction, however, and Stegner alternates between genuine modesty, subversive silence, and cantankerability.
Even at the age of eighty-one he looks exceptionally youthful and handsome. He wears his clothes well, whether an old bathrobe or a workshirt and jeans. He rises early—sometimes too early for a houseguest from Idaho—breakfasts, then retreats before first light to the manual typewriter inside the study adjoining the Stegner home.
Both the house and the study overlook the woods and meadows of the Los Altos Hills. On cool mornings, Stegner lights a low fire in the stove and then writes until lunch. Although far from uncluttered, his study nevertheless seems orderly and neat. On its entrance wall and to the left of it, bookshelves run from floor to ceiling; opposite the entrance, honorary degrees, awards, certificates and memorabilia take the place of bookshelves.
Behind the desk are photos of friends like Bernard DeVoto and Robert Frost; below these, more bookshelves tightly packed with contemporary classics.
When did you decide that you had to be a writer? Nobody in my family had ever gone to college. So I said, Fine, economics. And I took one course in economics and that cured that. Then, my freshman English teacher thought I had some kind of gift.
So he put me in an advanced class, which gave me the notion that I could put words together in some fashion. I wrote some short stories as an undergraduate, won a little prize at one of the local newspapers.
But I was selling rugs and linoleum, and, as far as I knew, I would go on selling rugs and linoleum for a living. I was silly putty. When I finished college, a couple of my professors pushed me off to graduate school. When I had finished that, I went back to Salt Lake to teach, and after two years of recovering from the Ph.
By that time I was twenty-six or twenty-seven.place is a place,” observed Western writer Wallace Stegner in his essay “The Sense of Place,” “until things that have happened in it are remembered in history, ballads, yarns, legends, or monuments.
The Audiobook (Cassette) of the A Sense of Place by Wallace Stegner at Barnes & Noble. FREE Shipping on $25 or more! A sense of place.
[Wallace Stegner] -- Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award winner Wallace Stegner reads eight of his essays.
His prose paints a vivid portrait of the American landscape and conveys his belief that our natural. Wallace Stegner, now in his 80’s, is still writing.
Here we have again Stegner creating a strong sense of place. Susan Burling Ward writes about the Idaho territory to her friend back east. “[This] is a place where silence closes about you where a soft, dry wind from great distances hums through the telephone wires and a stage. However, Stegner’s essay quickly disappeared from the public consciousness, while Seuss’s story remains relevant more than 40 years later, and his character, the Lorax, has become an important part of the environmentalist vernacular.
A Sense of Place has 33 ratings and 1 review. Reema said: im starting to fall out of love with stegner--i dont agree with all his straitjacket views abou /5.