I Have Been Loved Said Edward To

You Are Down There Alone, The Stars Seemed To Say To Him. And We Are Up Here, In Our Constellations, Together.

In Luggage Claim At The Minneapolis Airport, The Guy Came Up To Me And Said, "maybe You're Wrong, Maybe Stories Do Matter." I Wrote That On A Scrap Of Paper And Put It Above My Desk. That Was The Thing That Pushed Me Through To The End Of Telling Despereaux, That Comment, "maybe They Do...maybe Stories Matter."

I Think We Sent Tony Fucile Pictures Of Ourselves, Photos From Like When We Were Seven Years Old. That's What He Worked From. He Captured Exactly What We Looked Like. I'd Love To Do Another One With Alison, Not Just For The Joy Of Writing, But Also For The Joy Of Watching Tony Bring It To Life With His Illustrations. I'm Hoping At Bea, Or Ala, I'll Get To Meet Tony And Shake His Hand And Thank Him.

I Love Words; I Love The Way They Sound. Once I've Worked On Everything Else, The Last Drafts Of My Books Come Down To How They Sound.

Take This Squirrel, For Instance. Ulysses. Do I Believe He Can Type Poetry? Sure, I Do Believe It. There Is Much More Beauty In The World If I Believe Such A Thing Is Possible.