Ursula Le Guin passed away on Monday of last week, and since then I've felt oddly like I have a hole in my chest.
The only time I can remember feeling similarly was when Nora Ephron left us, but my devastation over the loss of Nora felt more... obvious. That is to say, I'd unapologetically adored Nora's work for half my life, whereas I didn't read Ursula's books until college. It would follow, in my logical brain, that losing Nora would feel worse than losing Ursula. But that's never the case with grief, is it. Grief is weird and incomparable. If I've learned anything from celebrating the lives of these two women, that would be it.Read More