Elizabeth Strout, author of Pulizer-Prize winning "Olive Kitteridge" will discuss the relationship between the reader and the writer at the University of Denver Tuesday. (Photograph copyright Jerry Bauer)

. Facebook. Foursquare. Smartphones. Reality TV. Talk radio. Tablets. Tumblr. Pinterest. So much unfiltered truth lobbed into our lives, so quickly filling our free time with demands for fiddling.
No better time for fiction, reasons Elizabeth Strout, whose lovely, lean novel "Olive Kitteridge" won the 2009 Pulitzer Prize for literature.
As Strout works on her fourth book, drafts of which are piled around her home in New York, she has become fascinated by the role of fiction in contemporary life and the relationship between reader and writer.
She'll tackle the topic Tuesday night at the University of Denver during The Denver Post's sold-out Pen & Podium lecture series and gave us a preview by cellphone.

Q: Why does fiction still matter?
A: I think it matters because it's one of the few places where we can glimpse what it might feel like to be another person. It is the way we are going to stay civilized and I don't mean it in a dippy way. If it is written with enough authority that we can sink into it, it can remove us from the whirlwind, give us another rhythm and the chance to be more contemplative. At least I see it in that way. There is so much "stuff" now. And more. And more and more coming at us in all directions. To an extent, that can't be helped, but it is nice to have it slowed down.
Q: "Olive Kitteridge" is a novel composed of linked short stories. Was there something liberating in approaching the book and the development of the uniting character, Olive, this way?
A: It did free me up, which is the dream of the fiction writer: To find a way to be freed up. So much time is spent trying to find that. I didn't write the book in order. The first story I wrote is the one at her son's wedding. When I wrote that, I really had her. I got it. Let's see what I can do with her. We always think we know somebody, but we don't. What's it like to be Olive's student, her neighbor, somebody who just passes her on the street, or someone who is much closer to her, like her son? I was turning that around all the time, to see her from different angles.