Maryruth Bracy

Maurine Whipple’s Story of The Giant Joshua

I had a girlfriend and ever since I knew her when she was in the eighth grade, she always said, “I’m going to be a writer. I’m going to be a steady contributor to Cosmopolitan when I’m thirty years old.” I never said that because I didn’t think I was good enough. I wasn’t one of those people who say, “I’m going to be a writer.” 

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Single Voices: A Letter Home

Dear Mom and Dad, 

Your phone call last night left me feeling strangely orphaned, as if you had placed me on some foreign doorstep. I know you thought that Tom and I would get married, and that you can’t understand why I’ve quit my job. Last year you questioned my going on to graduate school; last night you wanted me to return for more schooling in Utah: is it that you’d rather have me in school there than struggling out here?

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