She Was Unequal To Anyone's Wistfulness. She

What Makes Humans Human Is Precisely That They Do Not Know The Future. That Is Why They Do The Fateful And Amusing Things They Do: Who Can Say How Anything Will Turn Out? Therein Lies The Only Hope For Redemption, Discovery, And-let’s Be Frank—fun, Fun, Fun! There Might Be Things People Will Get Away With. And Not Just Motel Towels. There Might Be Great Illicit Loves, Enduring Joy, Faith-shaking Accidents With Farm Machinery. But You Have To Not Know In Order To See What Stories Your Life’s Efforts Bring You. The Mystery Is All.

To Write A Short Story, You Have To Be Able To Stay Up All Night.

Once Love Had Seemed Like Magic. Now It Seemed Like Tricks.

Rather Than A Teaching Tool, I Think A Novel Is More Of A Witnessing Entity. A Witnessing Entity? What Is That? I Just Want The Reader To Step In And Experience It As A Story.

Better To Think Of Writing, Of What One Does, As An Activity, Rather Than An Identity To Keep The Calling A Verb Rather Than A Noun.