Jan Karon
Jan Karon is an American novelist born on January 1, 1937, in Lenoir, whose work spans fiction, children's writing, and non-fiction.
She writes in English and has produced work across multiple genres over the course of her career. Her output covers novels aimed at adult readers alongside books written for children, reflecting a breadth of creative focus that is relatively uncommon among writers primarily identified as novelists.
As a children's writer, Karon brought the same storytelling instincts she applied to her novels into a format suited to younger readers. Her non-fiction writing adds another dimension to her body of work, showing a willingness to move beyond invented narratives into more direct forms of communication. Together, these three strands — fiction, children's literature, and non-fiction — make up the documented shape of her career.
The Library of Congress catalogs her under the authorized label "Karon, Jan, 1937-," a designation that places her formally within the American literary record. Her consistent movement across fiction, children's writing, and non-fiction represents the recurring pattern of a career built on more than one mode of storytelling.
Quotes by Jan Karon
When I open many books, or most leading women's magazines, or see almost all TV shows, I don't find myself at all. I am completely anonymous. My value system is not there.
So many people don't know that God loves them. They feel, 'Why would God love me? Why would He be interested in me?'
To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wild flower,’ ” he quoted from Blake. “ ‘Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour,’ ” she replied.
How wonderful that it’s possible to ensure our own happiness of another. Is it our job to make a beloved happy? It is not. The other person always has a choice. It is our job to generously outdo, no matter what, and discover that the prize in this contest of generosity is more love.
Let me say that I absolutely loved writing ‘A Common Life,’ because it was a book about love.
His style was to give the issue to God and haul it back again, ad infinitum, ’til the cows came home, until the thing finally wore itself out in him.
A loved one from us has gone, A voice we love is stilled. A place is vacant in our home, Which never will be filled. Estelle Woodhouse, 1898-1987.
Yet in all this, she was to trust God – and more than that, yes, truly more than that, she was to thank him.
The rector wondered if the joy that people seemed so expert at containing somehow transferred to their dogs, who had nothing at all to hide.