Gabriel Garcia Marquez

I have a very vivid memory of the first time I read "One Hundred Years of Solitude". I was home from college, It was probably 1987 and I went to the lake. Lying on the beach, I read the last third of the book. I was totally engrossed in it. When I reached the end, where one realizes that they are reading the book that is written in the book, I felt dizzy. I sat up, extremely disoriented, to find myself on a beach in upstate New York. The spell of his words was profound. Having been transported, I couldn't bear to be outside of that world and I turned back to the first page.

This book was my first exposure to what is called "magic realism" but which is now, at least in my library, called a good story.

A great light has gone out of the world, but it has ignited a creative forest fire.