When I was a teen, The Left Hand of Darkness did more to challenge my conception of gender identity than anything I would read or hear for years. Which is, to say, hardly at all, but her writing has often astounded me, literally impacting how I perceived the world. Ursula Le Guin is one of my heroes, in as much as I have them. The Hainish Cycle reflects the anthropologist's experience of immersing themselves in new strange cultures since most of their main characters and narrators (Le Guin favoured the first-person narration) are envoys from a humanitarian organization, the Ekumen, sent to investigate or ally themselves with the people of a different world and learn their ways. Her interest in non-Western philosophies was reflected in works such as 'Solitude' and The Telling but even more interesting are her imagined societies, often mixing traits extracted from her profound knowledge of anthropology acquired from growing up with her father, the famous anthropologist, Alfred Kroeber. She was known for her treatment of gender ( The Left Hand of Darkness, The Matter of Seggri), political systems ( The Telling, The Dispossessed) and difference/otherness in any other form. Her recent publications include the novel Lavinia, an essay collection, Cheek by Jowl, and The Wild Girls.

Le Guin published twenty-two novels, eleven volumes of short stories, four collections of essays, twelve books for children, six volumes of poetry and four of translation, and has received many awards: Hugo, Nebula, National Book Award, PEN-Malamud, etc. And on all that is unknown, all that we discover as we muddle through life: How rich we are in knowledge, and in all that lies around us yet to learn. On breakfast: Eating an egg from the shell takes not only practice, but resolution, even courage, possibly willingness to commit crime. He just doesn’t accept the lap hypothesis. So what is ‘escapism’ an accusation of? On her new cat: He still won’t sit on a lap…I don’t know if he ever will. On cultural perceptions of fantasy: The direction of escape is toward freedom. On the absurdity of denying your age, she says, If I’m ninety and believe I’m forty-five, I’m headed for a very bad time trying to get out of the bathtub. No Time to Spare collects the best of Ursula’s blog, presenting perfectly crystallized dispatches on what matters to her now, her concerns with this world, and her wonder at it. Now she’s in the last great frontier of life, old age, and exploring new literary territory: the blog, a forum where her voice-sharp, witty, as compassionate as it is critical-shines. Le Guin has taken readers to imaginary worlds for decades.

Le Guin, and with an introduction by Karen Joy Fowler, a collection of thoughts-always adroit, often acerbic-on aging, belief, the state of literature, and the state of the nation.

No Time To Spare by Ursula K. Le Guin