I Thought I Was Going Nowhere. Now

I Am Busier Now Than I Ever Imagined I Would Be, But I Feel Blessed In That I Have Found What I Am Supposed To Be Doing With My Life. It's Wonderful To Tell Stories And Have People Listen To Them.

This Is The Great Thing About Writing For Kids. Adults Might Not Do Anything If They Recognized Me. But If They Do See Me, And They're With A Kid, They'll Tell The Kid Who I Am. They Think They Should Give That To The Kid. So Generally That Sends The Kid Over.

The Miraculous Journey Of Edward Tulane Began With A Friend Giving Me A Rabbit Doll - Forgive Me, Edward, For Using That Word; He Doesn't Like "doll" - For Christmas. I Said, "oh, He's Lovely, What's His Name?" And She Said, "edward." And A Few Days After I Received The Rabbit, Who Was Dressed Very Handsomely In Edwardian Kind Of Clothes, I Saw Him Stripped Of His Finery And Face Down On The Bottom Of The Ocean Floor. Why? I Don't Know. But That's Where His Story Began In My Head.

Things Are Not At All What They Seem To Be: Oh No, Not At All.

At The Thought Of Being Eaten By Rats, Despereaux Forgot About Being Brave. He Forgot About Not Being A Disappointment. He Felt Himself Heading Into Another Faint. But His Mother, Who Had An Excellent Sense Of Dramatic Timing, Beat Him To It; She Executed A Beautiful, Flawless Swoon, Landing Right At Despereaux's Feet.