Ever since this morning when my wife called from the computer room that Madeline L’Engle had died, I’ve been trying to come up with something clever and poignant to say about her.  I can’t.  I’m just not built that way.  I mean, it would be no exaggeration to say that reading A Wrinkle in Time was a major turning point in my life.  That book — but more so, I think, its sequel, A Wind in the Door — really stretched my mind, made me think about new ways of looking at the world and about telling stories.  The concept of the Tesseract really blew my mind when I was a kid; and the sense of scale, cosmic and microcosmic, that she brought to life in A Wind in the Door blew it even more.

She was an amazing and gifted storyteller.  She will be missed.