This is the news cycle, now, when a great writer dies. On Monday, just after 3pm, Penguin Ireland announces, on Twitter, the sad passing of William Trevor, at 88 years old. Trevor’s Irish characters live small lives, and they often get smaller. It would be nice to get time to mourn the man before the public business of remembering the great writer begins. But when the call went out to Irish writers last Monday afternoon, one thing had not changed: they were all at their desks, the place where Trevor knew he belonged.

Source: The Guardian November 25, 2016 08:02 UTC