If you've been following news about The National Book Awards, presented annually by The National Book Foundation, you know a few things in addition to the award winners.
You know Ursula K. Le Guin was given an award for her distinguished contribution to American letters, and gave a speech which has touched many.
And you know another author made news which was not as universally accepted.
Daniel Handler of Lemony Snicket fame (NOT crime writer David Handler as I stupidly posted in a comment to a post on Laura Lippman's Facebook wall this morning. I say stupidly, because I knew better and just didn't catch my own error. <sigh>). Made some racist comments which made the crowd, not surprisingly, uneasy.
He has since apologized.
I was stunned and hurt and angry at Mr. Handler's remarks, and initially (and, admittedly, selfishly) not over moved by the apology.
Then I read Ms. Lippman's piece at The Toast. I encourage each of you to do the same. I found it to be generous, gracious and brave. http://the-toast.net/2014/11/21/racist/
All this brings up something I've been pondering since reading a Margaret Atwood quote.
"Wanting to meet an author because you like his work is like wanting to meet a duck because you like pâté.”
I never really thought about meeting my favorite authors in quite this way, although it does bear thinking about . . . certainly . . . I suppose. Still pondering . . .