The Life and Writing of Liza Ward

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The Life and Writing of Liza Ward

Liza Ward I imagine wore pearls and a sweet grin; she wrote of abiding emptiness. An image of neatly trimmed edges in navy blue with long brunette waves of classic beauty, her words echo with hollow despair and the impossibility of overcoming the past. Answering the phone for this interview, a high-pitched, girlie voice chirps “Hi, how are you?” with genuine interest. Her novel speaks from the other side, from the silence of a happy life.

After reading her first novel, Outside Valentine, I expected a measured, soft voice that would stretch around the ball of emptiness at the center of all that is human, a voice that arcs in stabbing, eloquent tones, speaking from the beyond of some enlightened view of human suffering, loneliness, and never-ending need. Only 29, Ward could pass for 14 on the phone, and her sweet, gentle voice recalls images of a 1950’s housewife, earnestly offering a batch of cookies to solve world hunger. In that youthful voice, Ward speaks of the need for maturity and distance to approach your work, and the importance of ...

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