Death. It Doesn't Have To Be Boring.

One Young Woman's Tribute Describes Unwrapping Her Cadaver's Hands And Being Brought Up Short By The Realization That The Nails Were Painted Pink. "the Pictures In The Anatomy Atlas Did Not Show Nail Polish", She Wrote. "did You Choose The Color? Did You Think That I Would See It? I Wanted To Tell You About The Inside Of Your Hands. I Want You To Know You Are Always There When I See Patients. When I Palpate An Abdomen, Yours Are The Organs I Imagine. When I Listen To A Heart, I Recall Holding Your Heart.

I Began Thinking About My Skeleton, This Solid, Beautiful Thing Inside Me That I Would Never See.

I've Read Plenty Of Amazing Science Pieces Where The Writers Don't Hang Out In Labs. I Just Have Fun Doing It. And I Get Rewarded For It; I Get Gushy, Especially When Kids Tell Me They Expected To Be Bored By My Books, But Weren't.

For The Scientists, They're Kind Of Puzzled And Pleased That Somebody Finds Their Work Interesting. It Makes It Fun For Me. I Feel Like I've Sort Of Turned Over A Stone That Hasn't Been Turned Over.

You Won't See Me Writing About Particle Physics, Or Even Planetary Geology, Or Chemistry. I Practically Failed Chemistry, And If I Had To Write A Book In Any Of Those Areas, I Don't Think It Would Go Well.