I Really Try To Write Every Day.

People Really Get Myopic As They Get Older. We're Not A Culture That Encourages Dreaming Or Distraction. We're Not Ever Good At Just Being. I Remember Reading Some Adrienne Rich Quote Where She Talks About How Important It Was Just To Watch Bubbles Rise In A Glass.

No, I Don’t Have To Tell A Soul About This, I Promised Myself. When You Are A Kid, You Don’t Know Yet That A Secret, Like An Animal, Can Evolve. Like An Animal, A Secret Can Develop A Self-preserving Intelligence. Shaglike, Mute And Thick, A Knowledge With A Fur: Your Secret.

I Have Friends Who Are Capable Of Writing A Very Rough Draft And Then Going Back And Embroidering - They're Sort Of The Cathedral Builders Of Fiction. I Never Really Know What I'm Doing, And All My Pleasure's On The Level Of The Line. It's A Weird Way To Move Forward. It's Kind Of Like A Way To Caterpillar Your Way Through These Great Woods. The Best Ones, Whatever I Feel Like I'm Writing About, Some Other Secret Thing Will Begin To Come Into Focus.

Growing Up, Catholic Church Really Was Such An Incubator For My Imagination, Because All Of Those Mysteries Felt Embedded In This Insanely Green, Tropical Landscape: The Ocean Nearby, The Giant Banyan Trees. It All Felt Part Of One Seamless Mystery To Me.

Sometimes It Can Feel Like The Whole Globe Is Spinning With Irredeemable Losses, Capricious Natural Disasters And Crimes So Outrageously Evil They Dismantle Any Attempt To Solve Or Explain Them.