I'm wondering if he has ever read any of my books. Or if he did, I'm wondering if he understood them. They're, um, kinda political.
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I could no sooner take my politics out of my writing than take my own imagination out of my writing. Or my sense of wonder and awe of the natural world. Or my deep, deep faith. Or my love of language. Or my love of people. Or my fascination with family, communities and human love
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I don't think there are any children reading this thread, but in case there are: I treasure you and I love you. Your curiosity matters. Your imagination matters. Your empathy and care and wonder matters. Your sense of justice and fairness. Your radical response to the world.
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Any time a child reads a book, the adult that wrote that book is both implicitly and explicitly handing that child the whole world. It is a statement that the child holding that book is important, precious, and capable. To give a child a book is an act of faith. I believe in you.
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