Alice Munro has long been one of my favorite writers. Her short stories are like no one else’s: I’d find myself reading along, feeling confused by what I was reading, wondering if I had missed something.

When I eventually came to the end of the story, all the pieces fit. Perfectly. She had wrapped it up in a way I’d never expected.

How did she do that?

She was a truly a master of the short story. Her writing is extraordinary (she’s compared to Chekhov, with good reason).

If you don’t know her work, please check it out. I’ve read all her short story collections (some more than once) and lots of her short stories in The New Yorker.

Thank you Ms. Munro for many hours of reading pleasure: I’m now going to re-read your work in homage.

(Note: most of her books are available for around $10 each.)