I felt terribly sad when I heard about E. Lynn Harris’ death. I enjoyed his books so much and in the beginning started not to buy them because I didn’t think I’d be interested in the subject matter. He was truly a writer for all seasons. He gave us some of the most realistic portrayals of some African-American life and especially African-American women I’ve ever read. And his deep compassion was something I always marveled at.
I just wish we’d been told more about his last years, not just months, because everything seemed to be coming up roses, then he’s dead. Why? How? I’d like to know much more. He shared his life so freely with us and helped us live ours.