If There Was A Way To Recognize

Because' I Repeated, As A Breeze Blew Over Us, "sometimes Things Just Happen. That Aren't Expected. Or On The List." "such As?" He Asked "i Don't Know," I Said, Frustrated. "that's The Point. It Would Be Out Of The Blue, Taking Us By Surprise. Something We Might Not Be Prepared For." "but We Will Be Prepared," He Said, Confused. "we'll Have The List.

Wake Up, Caitlin, Mr. Lensing Had Said. But What He Didn't Under­stand Was That This Dreamland Was Preferable, Walking Through This Life Half-sleeping, Everything At Arm's Length Or Farther Away.

My Books Are So Tame!

Nah," I Said. "but If It Does, Just Tell Him I Said To Get Back On The Bike." "what?" "he'll Understand.

Usually When I Finish The Draft Of A Book, I'm Sure I'll Never Write Another One. I'm Just That Tired And Sick Of Myself. But Then Another Idea Starts Percolating. It Usually Begins With The Narrator's Name, Then Some Idea That Intrigues Me About Her Life Or Situation. I Try To Ignore It As Long As I Can, Because I Know When I Start Writing, I'll Be Right Back Into It, Every Single Day. But Eventually, I Just Have To. It's A Compulsion!