“Like the dead‑seeming, cold rocks, I have memories within that came out of the material that went to make me. Time and place have had their say.” So begins with an intense, undeniable beauty the memoir of one of America’s great writers, Zora Neale Hurston. I read her 1942 autobiography, Dust Tracks on a Road, for the first time years ago, shortly after I got sober, when a black‑haired Irish opera student turned movie ticket-taker and occasional junkie pulled it and a Tom Waits CD out of her torn army‑surplus knapsack and pressed them into my hands for safekeeping.

https://lithub.com/understanding-zora-neale-hurstons-loneliness

#literature #writing #writers #books