SOUL AT THE WHITE HEAT - JOYCE CAROL OATES

I kinew who she was of course, who doesn't, but I'd never read any of her stuff until I came across this volume. A few chapters about writing and then many chapters about books and writers. 

It was enlightening to read about some famous authors I always liked, H.P. Lovecraft for example. Not just about his writing but a summary of his work and life in a few pages that resonated. She referenced a few stories I haven't read but also name-checked some I've been reading for years, like August Derleth and Arthur Machen. 

Cue a story by Larry McMurtry, The Last Kind Words Saloon. I've never been inclined to read McMurtry although I know several who think he's the greatest living writer. Oates made me want to read this book because, if nothing else, I liked the title. Joan Didion beckons. Margaret Attwood appears. The whole book is great reading.

The final chapter, about her visit to San Quentin, is fantastic, a genuinely moving account of her visit. This line attracted my attention - 

We were aware of high stone walls strung with razor wire like a deranged sort of tinsel.