It took the death of Nora Ephron one of my heroes to get me out of my sick bed. Nora was the Dorothy Parker of our age – a writer so funny and succinct that you were at once amused and infuriated that you hadn’t thought of (and written) it yourself. I never knew Nora, but I felt like I did. We sat on the next table to each other countless times in Manhattan (The Monkey Bar was a favourite). I admired her hair and her overall look whilst she inevitably met (and shrieked with laughter with) someone famous. To look at Nora was to know that there was not only life after fifty, but great sex and the opportunity to say and write what you liked – I don’t think being under fifty stopped her either btw.
Most people know Ephron for her film work – screenplay writing and or directing: All The Presidents Men, Heartburn, Silkwood, When Harry Met Sally, Sleepless in Seattle, Julie and Julia were all hers in one way or another. Her book ‘I feel bad about my neck‘ which chronicled her reaction to the aging process and her decision to have a little ‘work’, became a best seller and a guide to living well and laughing for women of my generation and beyond. The New York Times has a great obit(if there can be such a thing). It ends with a list of things Nora said she would miss: ‘Baths, coming over the bridge to Manhattan and Pie’. If you haven’t read Nora Ephron then you haven’t lived.