I'm Sure My First Nine Years Have

When My Husband Died, People Kept Telling Me Not To Cry. People Kept Trying To Help Me To Forget. But I Didn't Want To Forget. [...] So I Realize, That If It's Hard For Me, How Much Harder It Must Be For You.

Once A Book Is Published, It No Longer Belongs To Me. My Creative Task Is Done. The Work Now Belongs To The Creative Mind Of My Readers. I Had My Turn To Make Of It What I Would, Now It Is Their Turn.

I Realize, Of Course, That I Wasn't Born Knowing How To Read. I Just Can't Imagine A Time When I Didn't Know How.

The World That Is In Me Is The Only World I Have By Which To Grasp The World Outside And As I Write Fiction, It Is The Chart By Which I Must Steer.

As Much Pleasure As Young People Get From Twittering And Texting, There Is No Way These Activities Will Nourish Their Minds And Spirits The Way Literature Can.