Rebecca, the protagonist of The Work, is a lot like my mother, who worked behind the scenes in the arts, nurturing the talents of others for her whole career. Fierce dissatisfaction, determination: these qualities are exactly what it took to write a novel. She took nothing at face value, and she had a way of getting something between her teeth and not letting it go. When I think of the word ‘iconoclast’, I think of her. My mother didn’t live to see me publish a book, but she’s there in every word, in my very way of working. She was the most creative person I’ve ever met, from painting, to writing, to cooking, to singing-she did all these things and more, always with a special twist. When I think of creativity, I think of Hetty knitting, the state of concentration that was palpable around her. They’re sitting on one of the many sweaters she knitted for me over the years, and which I still cherish. The next best thing is to show Hetty’s picture along with the set of books she brought with her from England when she immigrated in 1954. I wish I had a picture of my mother absorbed in a book, as she often was.
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