My parents refused to care for my younger kids while I tended to my oldest with leukemia; I called my ex-husband, but he said: “You’re just a poor writer, deal with it”

said near the end.

Half asleep, talking about horses in one of her books escaping from a burning barn, she said they looked more beautiful afterward with soot still on them.

From Ashes.

She named it.

She just didn’t know.

From Ashes came out on a Tuesday in spring, almost exactly one year after Kora died.

For the first two weeks, it did what most small-press books do.

Almost nothing.

Then a mother with a large online following, a woman who had lost a child herself, read it and posted