I'm A Physical Learner. I Learn From

While Writing, Writers Are Living Inside A Character Or Characters, And When The Book Ekes Into The World, Writers Are Living Inside The Reader. That's More Than Connecting.

At Least In My Case, A Very Simple, Regular, Happy Life Makes For Better Writing.

In My Totally Unscientific Yet Enthusiastic Survey Of Communal Experiments Throughout American History, I've Discovered That The Thing Most Likely To Break Up Said Experiments Is: Sex, All That Murky, Dark, Dirty Gunk Simmering Beneath Human Relations.

In Terms Of Writing, I Think What Most Fiction Writers Treasure More Than Anything Is The Feeling That They're Living For The Length Of A Book Inside Another Person.

She Would Always Feel This Wild Girl Was The Truest Of Any Of The People She Had Already Been: Adored Daughter, Bourgeois Priss, Rebel, Runaway, Dope-fiend San Francisco Hippie; Or All The People She Would Later Be: Mother, Nurse, Religious Fanatic, Prematurely Old Woman. Vivienne Was A Human Onion, And When I Came Home At Twenty Eight Years Old On The Day The Monster Died, I Was Afraid That The Baptist Freak She Had Peeled Down To Was Her True, Acrid, Tear-inducing Core.