My Wife And I Left New York

To This Day, She’s Still Sad. Because There’s Not Some Finite Amount Of Pain Inside Us. Our Bodies And Minds Just Keep Manufacturing More Of It. I’m Just Saying That I Took The Pain That Was Inside Of Her At That Moment And Made It My Own. And It Didn’t Hurt Me At All.

I Think I Was Always Writing Books That Had Very Clear Scenic Structures. I Do Tend To Write In Scenes. I Do Tend To Have A Fair Amount Of Dialogue. And I Do Tend To Use Stories That Don't Sprawl All Over The Place, That Have A Very Sharp Focus In Terms Of How They Unfold In Time.

It Felt Good, The Whole Family Together On A Sunny Morning In A Wholesome Environment. If It Hadn't Been For The Warshiping God Part, He Would Have Happily Attended Church On A Regular Basis.

Meg Was Going To Have To Learn For Herself What Laurie Had Figured Out Over The Summer - That It Was Better To Leave Well Enough Alone, To Avoid Unnecessary Encounters With The People You'd Left Behind, To Not Keep Poking At That Sore Tooth With The Tip Of Your Tongue. Not Because You Didn't Love Them Anymore, But Because You Did, And Because That Love Was Useless Now, Just Another Dull Ache In Your Phantom Limb.

The Interesting Part About The Writing Process Is That You Can Never See All The Way To The End, Not If Something Is Happening Over The Course Of A Year And A Half, Or Two Years.