I Knew A Book Of Mine Was

I Believed In Immaculate Conception And Spontaneous Combustion. I Believed In Aliens From Outer Space And Vampires, Prophecy, And The Resurrection Of The Dead. I Had Deja Vu Many Times Each Day. I Was Thirteen.

I Write A Lot By Sound. One Sound Leads Me To Another. These Sounds Aren't Random; They Have Their Own Logic.

As A Citizen Of The Post-historical Variety, I Am In Continual Mourning And Prepared For Worse.

Writing Is Like Hunting. There Are Brutally Cold Afternoons With Nothing In Sight, Only The Wind And Your Breaking Heart. Then The Moment When You Bag Something Big. The Entire Process Is Beyond Intoxicating.

To Be One Woman, Truly, Wholly, Is To Be All Women. Tend One Garden And You Will Birth Worlds.