If You Really Wanted To Mess Me

Being A Reader Is Sort Of Like Being President, Except Reading Involves Fewer State Dinners, Usually. You Have This Agenda You Want To Get Through, But You Get Distracted By Life Events, E.g., Books Arriving In The Mail/world War Iii, And You Are Temporarily Deflected From Your Chosen Path.

...you Can Find People. It's Like Those Acrobatic Displays.... Those Ones When You Stand On Top Of Loads Of People In A Pyramid. It Doesn't Really Matter Who They Are, As Long As They're There And You Don't Let Them Go Away Without Finding Someone Else.

It's No Good Looking To Writers For Definitions Of What Constitutes Proper Writing, Because You Will Drive Yourself Crazy, And You Won't Find Anything That You Can Build Into A Coherent Whole.

But All Three Of Them Had Had To Lose Things In Order To Gain Other Things. Will Had Lost His Shell And His Cool And His Distance, And He Felt Scared And Vulnerable, But He Got To Be With Rachel; And Fiona Had Lost A Big Chunk Of Marcus, And She Got To Stay Away From The Casualty Ward; And Marcus Had Lost Himself, And Got To Walk Home From School With His Shoes On.

Everyone Disliked Their Partners At Some Time Or Another, She Knew That. But She’d Spent Her Hours In The Dark Wondering Whether She’d Ever Liked Him. Would It Really Have Been So Much Worse To Spend Those Years Alone? Why Did There Have To Be Someone Else In The Room While She Was Eating, Watching Tv, Sleeping?