A Few Years Ago
A few years ago I despairingly forced myself to read Munro. I couldn't appreciate her style at all: overly descriptive, overly wordy and overly subtle plots. 'Littish wank.'
Yet now I keenly observe everything she does. Her generally subtle plots are wonderful flavours imbuing her work; her significant details enable us to view humanity under a microscope; she evokes relationships with elegant descriptive brushstrokes. Her structure is also unique and effective, almost like biographical or autobiographical snapshots (sometimes a series of snapshots).
I suppose what Munro has taught me is that the more you read and write the more you appreciate different aspects of narrative mastery. The irony is that a few years ago I would have told friends to avoid her, unless they liked wading through a turgid mire.
A few years later and I'm a Munro evangelist: 'Read Munro!'