a lost "wrinkle"

Madeleine L'Engle died last Thursday, and with her passing, the world lost perhaps one of the best novelists of modern times.

Now, I may be exaggerating a little, but this is my blog, so deal with it.

For those for whom the name does not ring a bell, L'Engle was the author of "A Wrinkle in Time."

As a journalism student, I feel like I'm constantly being told by professors that the only way to become a good journalist is to read good journalism. I think it needs to go one step further. Journalism is storytelling. To be a good journalist, you must surround yourself with good storytelling.

L'Engle's writing is recognized for its impeccable storytelling: clean, easy work that not only superficially engages the reader, but that also challenges thought on a more mature level, introducing scientific and political ideas. As a child reading the novel, I loved Meg and Charles Wallace, they were my best friends. But upon revisiting the story in my late-teens, I realized that the book is not only the story of the Murray children, but is also a cleverly disguised criticism of communism and other social systems.

The Washington Post recently published an article of appreciation. The reporter, Monica Hesse, completely captured my sentiment about the novel and L'Engle's brilliant writing.

I think her final graf sums up the affect L'Engle's writing had on so many awkward, uncomfortable teens and then the later discovery of a club of-sorts, of avid "Wrinkle" fans, "All those years ago, with your patchwork quilt and your instant hot chocolate and your despairing belief in your own monstrosity, you hadn't been alone after all."

Madeleine L'Engle's writing is storytelling in its most accelerated form. She adeptly transcended the "children's novel" category of literature and pushed cunningly past to a realm of classicism, punctuated by layers of meaning, beautifully crafted characters and just a good story.

to begin again

I noticed the other day a quote on a friend's Web site, saying something about "Can a change of address change your life?" It's strange when you realize you've done something to alter your life completely. In a good way, to be sure. But forever different my life will be after being away for so long.

Upon returning to campus I've noticed that in most ways, I'm beginning again here. I walk around and run into a few people I know, but not many. I've reached the point at Elon where most of my friends are leaving at the end of the year, and since being gone, I have very few who are younger than me.

In addition to the metamorphosis of friendships, I've returned to a school that looks strikingly different from the one I left. Buildings are popping up everywhere. Fountains, trees and pathways have materialized over a six-month stretch of absence. It's disconcerting, really, to find my old haunts re-purposed and left behind in favor of newer, more modern things.

I've decided to do some re-purposing of my own. I kept this blog during my semester abroad as a way to stay in touch with my friends and family in the U.S., and as a way to document my experiences and musings on cultural differences. I've found myself lacking that outlet, and have decided to begin again.