Annie Proulx
Annie Proulx
Edna Ann Proulxis an American journalist and author. She has written most frequently as Annie Proulx but has also used the names E. Annie Proulx and E.A. Proulx...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth22 August 1935
CountryUnited States of America
began characters denver destroyed found gay relationship society thinking whether wondering
I found myself wondering what a gay person in such a masculine-oriented society did -- whether they fled to Denver or toughed it out. I began thinking about homophobia. In fact, the thing that destroyed the relationship between the two characters was their own homophobia.
ifs
If you can't fix it, you have to stand it.
house insightful stories
In a rough way the short story writer is to the novelist as a cabinetmaker is to a house carpenter.
smart independent awards
If you are looking for smart judging based on merit, skip the Academy Awards next year and pay attention to the Independent Spirit Awards.
writing brain let-it-go
But the only rhyme he could summon for 'out' was 'sauerkraut,' which lacked poetic glory. He let it go. The right line would come in time. That was the thing about poetry. It crept up through the draws and coulees of the brain.
humble godly cowboy
No wonder, he thought, that the panhandle people were a godly lot, for they lived in sudden, violent atmospheres. Weather kept them humble.
flames crafts metamorphosis
Change itself is what fascinates me. I am drawn, as a moth to the flame, by edge situations, by situations of metamorphosis.
pain ocean wind
For if Jack Buggit could escape from the pickle jar, if a bird with a broken neck could fly away, what else might be possible? Water may be older than light, diamonds crack in hot goat's blood, mountaintops give off cold fire, forests appear in mid-ocean, it may happen that a crab is caught with the shadow of a hand on its back, and that the wind be imprisoned in a bit of knotted string. And it may be that love sometimes occurs without pain or misery.
sweet memories real
He pressed his face into the fabric and breathed in slowly through his mouth and nose, hoping for the faintest smoke and mountain sage and salty sweet stink of Jack but there was no real scent, only the memory of it, the imagined power of Brokeback Mountain of which nothing was left but what he held in his hands.
distance hands opposites
and they shook hands, hit each other on the shoulder, then there was forty feet of distance between them and nothing to do but drive away in opposite directions. Within a mile Ennis felt like someone was pulling his guts out hand over hand a yard at a time. He stopped at the side of the road and, in the whirling new snow, tried to puke but nothing came up. He felt about as bad as he ever had and it took a long time for the feeling to wear off.
brokeback-mountain knows ifs
...all them things I don't know could get you killed if I come to know them
character writing landscape
If you get the landscape right, the characters will step out of it, and they'll be in the right place.
writing thinking space
I think it's important to leave spaces in a story for readers to fill in from their own experience.
suffering atmosphere hustle
I rarely use the Internet for research, as I find the process cumbersome and detestable. The information gained is often untrustworthy and couched in execrable prose. It is unpleasant to sit in front of a twitching screen suffering assault by virus, power outage, sluggish searches, system crashes, the lack of direct human discourse, all in an atmosphere of scam and hustle.