He was willing to wait, he said, for years to see if anything might spark, and meanwhile he would keep writing us letters, buying us dinners or antique necklaces, sending flowers to our mothers, and just generally being a prince while we got our hearts chewed up by less worthy boys. Through the years there became a small circle of us-women Larry cultivated and cared for, but didn’t necessarily sleep with. Larry was supremely generous and stubbornly patient. Wandering into his Georgetown bookstore one day in 1972, shortly after the film adaptation of his novel The Last Picture Show had won two Oscars, I was looking for a cowboy book for my then boyfriend and had no idea that our chance encounter would lead to one of the most profound friendships of my life.
Larry McMurtry loved, respected, and appreciated women more than any man I ever knew.
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