Fiction Is Always Really A Labor.

Staying Within The World Of A Novel Gives Us The Ability To Be Quiet And Alone, Two Skills That Are Disappearing Faster Than The Polar Icecaps.

The Secret Is To Keep Adding Voices, Adding Ideas, And Moving Things Around As You Put Together Your Life. If You’re Lucky, Putting Together Your Life Is A Process That Will Last Through Every Single Day You’re Alive.

People Gave Me Such A Bad Time About Wanting A Baby. I Didn't Want A Baby, And I Still Don't. I Wanted A Dog.

That's One Of The Many Things About Having The Bookstore That I Adore. I Can Walk Into The Store And Say To Somebody, "i'm Glad You're Reading This Book" Or "i'm Glad You're Getting This Book" Or "don't Get That Book. I Read That Book And Hated That Book. Let's Get You This Book Instead."

I Was Starting To Wonder If I Was Ready To Be A Writer, Not Someone Who Won Prizes, Got Published And Was Given The Time And Space To Work, But Someone Who Wrote As A Course Of Life. Maybe Writing Wouldn't Have Any Rewards. Maybe The Salvation I Would Gain Through Work Would Only Be Emotional And Intellectual. Wouldn't That Be Enough, To Be A Waitress Who Found An Hour Or Two Hidden In Every Day To Write?