Today is Truman Capote's Birthday.

"Sometimes when I think how good my book can be, I can hardly breathe." — Truman Capote

(I adore Capote. Several reasons. One, his first story about his childhood in the South is one of my favorite books. I often reread it. It's so real. His voice is so authentic. And I know this because I know people like he knew. And I had a childhood in the South. Also he and I both taught ourselves to read long before first grade and we kept dictionaries and marked words and wrote books when we were little. He always knew he wanted to be a writer. I never even thought of that though I was writing all the time. I wanted to be an Anthropologist, a Biologist. I wanted to understand human beings. We both suffered from disadvantages, but had visions of what could be. Today is his birthday. I always remember it. He died way too young. His disadvantages killed him. My disadvantages killed my career. Love never moved him forward. Love sustained me. Oh, the wishes he had. I have burned all my wishes, too.