Wayne told me this morning that Maeve Binchy died last week.  She has long been one of my favorite writers, and many of her stories have inspired me.  One of the problems with writing fiction is that I know too much about the structure of a novel. If the pacing is off or if the characterization isn’t right, then it bothers me.  This is a little embarrassing to admit, but as a result I’m a terribly picky reader.  I’ve never had a problem with Maeve’s books, though.  She was a master storyteller and will be sorely missed by those who grew to love her and her books.