People Grow Up By Living.

A Lot Of People Ask Questions That They Don't Want To Answer Themselves, And If We're Honest About The Intimacy That We Have With Our Parents, You Wish Them The Best And You Wish Them The Worst More Than Anybody Else In The World. I Think Everyone Has Had A Moment In Their Life Where They Wished A Parent Ill, And I Think It's Perhaps A Very Romantic Idea That That Doesn't Happen.

I'm Not A Slash-and-burn Kind, And I'm Also Not A Posterity Kind. They Just Kind Of Exist On My Hard Drive. It's Like Walking Down The Street - What You Leave Behind Is Still There, Even If You Never Go Back And Revisit It.

She Was Unaware That She Was Somewhat Of A Celebrity Up In Heaven. I Had Told People About Her, What She Did, How She Observed Moments Of Silence Up And Down The City And Wrote Small Individual Prayers In Her Journal, And The Story Had Travelled So Quickly That Women Lined Up To Know She Had Found Where They’d Been Killed. She Had Fans In Heaven..... Meanwhile, For Us, She Was Doing Important Work, Work That Most People On Earth Were Too Frightened Even Too Contemplate.

Hold Still," My Father Would Say, While I Held The Ship In The Bottle And He Burned Away The Strings He'd Raised The Mast With And Set The Clipper Ship Free On Its Blue Putty Sea. And I Would Wait For Him, Recognizing The Tension Of That Moment When The World In The Bottle Depended, Solely, On Me.

I Mean, If I Went Into My Closet, I Could Find A Previous Draft And Try To Figure That Out, But It Takes A Long Time For Me To Find The Voice To Tell A Story In. I Was Working From Other Points Of View For A Couple Years There.