I'm Always Happy," Sasha Said. "sometimes I

And For An Instant He Would Remember Naples: Sitting With Sasha In Her Tiny Room; The Jolt Of Surprise And Delight He'd Felt When The Sun Finally Dropped Into The Center Of Her Window And Was Captured Inside Her Circle Of Wire. Now He Turned To Her, Grinning. Her Hair And Face Were Aflame With Orange Light. "see," Sasha Muttered, Eyeing The Sun. "it's Mine.

I Haven't Had Writer's Block. I Think It's Because My Process Involves Writing Very Badly.

I Find Myself Thinking More About The Past As I Get Older... Maybe Because There's Just More Of It To Think About. At The Same Time, I'm Less Haunted By It Than I Was As A Younger Person. I Guess That's Probably The Ideal: To Reach A Point Where You Have Access To All Of Your Memories, But You Don't Feel Victimized By Them.

They Were Snobs Or Idiots Or Both...yet She Was Inexplicably Crushed By Their Coldness.

Kissing Mother Superior, Incompetent, Hairball, Poppy Seeds, On The Can.