I Often Worry That My Idea Of

The Novel Leads You Places That You Never Could Have Gotten To Otherwise.

I'm Always Interested In The Way People Speak And Move In Their Environment, In A Very Particular Environment. I'm Never Interested In Writing A Kind Of Neutral, Universal Novel That Could Be Set Anywhere. To Me, The Any Novel Is A Local Thing Always.

This, After All, Was The Month In Which Families Began Tightening And Closing And Sealing; From Thanksgiving To The New Year, Everybody's World Contracted, Day By Day, Into The Microcosmic Single Festive Household, Each With Its Own Rituals And Obsessions, Rules And Dreams. You Didn't Feel You Could Call People. They Didn't Feel They Could Phone You. How Does One Cry For Help From These Seasonal Prisons?

The Golden Age Of Luncheon Vouchers Ended Ten Yearsago. For Ten Years Mickey Had Been Saying, "the Goldenage Of Luncheon Vouchers Is Over." And That's What Archieloved About O'connell's. Everything Was Remembered,nothing Was Lost. History Was Never Revised Orreinterpreted, Adapted Or Whitewashed. It Was As Solid Andas Simple As The Encrusted Egg On The Clock.

The Past Is Always Tense, The Future Perfect.