Kim Edwards
Kim Edwards
Kim Edwards is an American author and educator. She was born in Killeen, Texas, grew up in the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York, and graduated from Colgate University and The University of Iowa, where she earned an MFA in fiction and an MA in linguistics. She is the author of a story collection, The Secrets of a Fire King, which was a finalist for the PEN/Hemingway Award; her stories have been published in The Paris Review, Story, Ploughshares,...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionAuthor
Date of Birth4 May 1958
CountryUnited States of America
There was something not quite right about her eagerness, an eerie kind of voyeurism in her need for bad news.
I love to swim, and I love being near water.
He could hardly imagine anymore what his life would be without the weight of his hidden knowledge. He'd come to think of it as a kind of penance. It was self-destructive, he could see that, but that was the way things were. People smoked, they jumped out of airplanes, they drank too much and got into their cars and drove without seat belts.
Your understanding of a place changes the longer you stay; you discover more, and your own life gets woven into the fabric of the community.
Though Lexington is not a small town, it sometimes feels like one, with circles of acquaintance overlapping once, then again; the person you meet by chance at the library or the pool may turn out to be the best friend of your down-the-street neighbor. Maybe thats why people are so friendly here, so willing to be unhurried.
Its impossible to control the reception of your work - the only thing you can control is the experience of writing itself, and the work you create.
My first job was in a nursing home - a terrible place in retrospect. It was in an old house, and the residents were so lonely. People rarely visited them. I only stayed there a couple of months, but it made a strong impression on me.
The Lake of Dreams grew gradually, over many years, elements and ideas accruing until they gained enough critical mass to become a novel.
I think that the whole child welfare system has to be totally taken apart and built up again. Have an agency just specifically for those follow-up cases.
Writing is always a process of discovery—I never know the end, or even the events on the next page, until they happen. There’s a constant interplay between the imagining and shaping of the story.
A moment was not a single moment at all, but rather an infinite number of different moments, depending on who was seeing things and how.
The city of Pittsburgh gleaming suddenly before her . . . so startling in its vastness and its beauty that she had gasped and slowed, afraid of losing control of the car
That there were other worlds, invisible, unknown, beyond imagination even, was a revelation to him.
Away from the bright motion of the party, she carried her sadness like a dark stone clenched in her palm.