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| Writer | Jeannette Walls |
| Category | Novel |
| Language | English |
| Publisher | Scribner |
| Publish Date | 2005 |
| Pages | 181 |
| File Size | 1 MB |
| File Type |
I’d like to thank my brother, Brian, for standing by me when we were growing up and while I wrote this. I’m also grateful to my mother for believing in art and truth and for supporting the idea of the book; to my brilliant and talented older sister, Lori, for coming around to it; and to my younger sister, Maureen, whom I will always love.
The Glass Castle PDF – Jeannette Walls
And to my father, Rex S. Walls, for dreaming all those big dreams. Very special thanks also to my agent, Jennifer Rudolph Walsh, for her compassion, wit, tenacity, and enthusiastic support; to my editor, Nan Graham, for her keen sense of how much is enough and for caring so deeply; and to Alexis Gargagliano for her thoughtful and sensitive readings.
My gratitude for their early and constant support goes to Jay and Betsy Taylor, Laurie Peck, Cynthia and David Young, Amy and Jim Scully, Ashley Pearson, Dan Mathews, Susan Watson, Jessica Taylor, and Alex Guerrios. I can never adequately thank my husband, John Taylor, who persuaded me it was time to tell my story and then pulled it out of me.
I WAS SITTING IN a taxi, wondering if I had overdressed for the evening, when I looked out the window and saw Mom rooting through a Dumpster. It was just after dark. A blustery March wind whipped the steam coming out of the manholes, and people hurried along the sidewalks with their collars turned up. I was stuck in traffic two blocks from the party where I was heading.
The Glass Castle PDF – Jeannette Walls
Mom stood fifteen feet away. She had tied rags around her shoulders to keep out the spring chill and was picking through the trash while her dog, a blackandwhite terrier mix, played at her feet. Mom’s gestures were all familiar—the way she tilted her head and thrust out her lower lip when studying items of potential value that she’d hoisted out of the Dumpster. The way her eyes widened with childish glee when she found something she liked.
Her long hair was streaked with gray, tangled, and matted. And her eyes had sunk deep into their sockets. But still she reminded me of the mom she’d been when I was a kid, swandiving off cliffs and painting in the desert and reading Shakespeare aloud. Her cheekbones were still high and strong. But the skin was parched and ruddy from all those winters and summers exposed to the elements.
To the people walking by, she probably looked like any of the thousands of homeless people in New York City. It had been months since I last laid eyes on Mom, and when she looked up. I was overcome with panic that she’d see me and call out my name. And that someone on the way to the same party would spot us together, and Mom would introduce herself, and my secret would be out.
The Glass Castle PDF – Jeannette Walls
I slid down in the seat and asked the driver to turn around and take me home to Park Avenue. The taxi pulled up in front of my building, the doorman held the door for me, and the elevator man took me up to my floor. My husband was working late, as he did most nights, and the apartment was silent except for the click of my heels on the polished wood floor.
I was still rattled from seeing Mom, the unexpectedness of coming across her. The sight of her rooting happily through the Dumpster. I put some Vivaldi on, hoping the music would settle me down. There were the turnofthecentury bronzeandsilver vases and the old books with worn leather spines that I’d collected at flea markets.
There were the Georgian maps I’d had framed, the Persian rugs. And the overstuffed leather armchair I liked to sink into at the end of the day. I’d tried to make a home for myself here, tried to turn the apartment into the sort of place where the person I wanted to be would live. But I could never enjoy the room without worrying about Mom and Dad huddled on a sidewalk grate somewhere.
The Glass Castle PDF
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