I don’t really understand why, but I’m still really sad about Molly Ivins’ death. I didn’t know her personally — but it seemed like I did, because every time I read one of her columns she just became more and more a friend. I could almost see her eyes as she was writing: a glint when she was angry at something Shrub or his ilk had done, a twinkle when she was tweaking the powerful and power wanna-bes.
We have lost a wonderful human being and an amazing craftswoman of the written word. Her craft will be missed, but even more her heart.
The best way to honor her, I think, is to do two things: Love Well and Raise Hell. I intend to do both.
To you, Molly.