Specificity Is The Soul Of Narrative.

What I've Discovered More Recently Is Copies Of Books That I Didn't Represent, But That My Boss Represented When I Assisted Her On The Dollar Pile. I Won't Mention Any Names, But It Is This Profoundly Bittersweet Time Of Realizing, "oh, I Had A Wonderful Time Working On This Book And Now It Is A Dollar Relic On The Side Of The Road."

My Favorite Season Is Autumn, And Maine Is Lovely For That Reason. In Maine, Autumn Begins On July 29. That's When You Start Building A Fire In The Fireplace And The Leaves Literally Start Falling From The Trees. It Is A Cold And Rugged And A Beautiful Place That Reminds You With Its Many Death Traps - Its Painfully Cold Oceans, Its Sharp, Jagged Beaches, And Perilous Cliffsides - That Nature Doesn't Care Whether You Live Or Die.

My Career As A Magazine Writer Was Largely Prefaced On The Idea Of Curiosity, To Go On Adventures And Weasel My Way Into The Lives Of People That I Admire.

Once You're Out In A Place Where There's One Sheriff For The County, People Have To Learn How To Get Along With Each Other And That Means Going To The Dump Illegally And Dumping Your Garbage And Hoping The Guys Don't Call You On It And Being Terrified Of This To Your Core Until You Realize After Many Years That The Guys At The Dump Don't Really Care Where Your Garbage Is Coming From.

My Hope When I Wrote The First Book Was That I Would Get To Do It Again. But It Was Not Entirely Clear That That Would Happen.