Joy Williams
Joy Williams
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Full Name and Common Aliases
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Joy Williams is a renowned American author known for her critically acclaimed novels and short stories that often explore the human condition.
Birth and Death Dates
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Joy Williams was born on May 6, 1944. There is no available information about her passing date.
Nationality and Profession(s)
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Williams is an American novelist, short story writer, and essayist. Her work has been recognized with numerous awards, including the Rea Award for the Short Story and a Guggenheim Fellowship.
Early Life and Background
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Joy Williams was born in Washington, D.C., but spent much of her childhood in California. She developed an interest in writing at an early age, influenced by authors like F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway. After attending college, Williams moved to New York City where she began working as a journalist.
Major Accomplishments
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Williams' literary career spans over four decades and has been marked by numerous notable publications, including her debut novel The Chalk Art (1974) and the critically acclaimed Ordinary Money (1981). Her work often explores themes of identity, morality, and human relationships.
Notable Works or Actions
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Some of Williams' most significant works include:
State of Grace, a collection of short stories that was nominated for the 2005 Pulitzer Prize.
Honored Guest, her seventh novel, published in 2011.
* The Right Bad Thing, a work of fiction exploring themes of identity and belonging.
Impact and Legacy
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Williams' contributions to American literature have been widely recognized. Her work is characterized by its lyricism, emotional depth, and nuanced exploration of the human experience.
Why They Are Widely Quoted or Remembered
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Joy Williams is remembered for her insightful portrayals of complex characters and situations, often weaving together seemingly disparate narrative threads into cohesive works that explore the intricacies of life.
Quotes by Joy Williams
Joy Williams's insights on:
Down in the kitchen, I open the refrigerator. There is nothing there but the prize steer of the county fair, rearranged in neat and mysterious packages. Daily, the cook pushes her hand into the cold. The result in uncertain. A gristly Ouija. It could be pot roast or brisket, eye of the round or sirloin tip. The steer has invaded their lives. He is everywhere. There is no room for the sisters’ diet-cola or for their underwear on sizzling mornings. They have been eating him for weeks.
Memory is the resurrection. The dead move among us the living in our memory and that is the resurrection.
Silence was a thing entrusted to the animals, the girl thought. Many things that human words have harmed are restored again by the silence of animals.
Children were quite disturbing really. It was difficult to think about children for long. They were all fickle little nihilists and one was forever being forced to protect oneself from their murderousness.
That’s what Alice liked about the desert, its constant relentless conflict with itself. The desert was unexpectedly beautiful and horrible at once.
So many times in a single day we glimpse a view beyond the apparent. Write those moments down. They might not speak to you at first. But eventually they might. Everybody writes too long and too much anyway, sacrificing significance for story. Truth be told, we all want to be poets.
We can never speak about God rationally as we speak about ordinary things, but that does not mean we should give up thinking about God. We must push our minds to the limits of what we could know, descending ever deeper into the darkness of unknowing.
Many writers today are wanderers. There is not only an unhousedness in language – how to convey, to say nothing of converge – but an unhousedness of place.
Pearl would smile helplessly back with the sickening feeling that she was collaborating with God. Not the God of her mother’s faulty and romantic vision, but the true one. A God of barbaric and unholy appearance, with a mind uncomplimentary to human consciousness.