The Thing About Being A Mystery Writer,

I Came From A House Full Of Books, So I Took Reading For Granted. I Was An Outdoorsy Little Kid, Too, So I Got The Best Of Both Worlds By Taking Books Up Trees And Reading There.

I Am, Of Course, Romanticizing; A Chronic Tendency Of Mine.

This Girl: She Bent Reality Around Her Like A Lens Bending Light, She Pleated It Into So Many Flickering Layers That You Could Never Tell Which One You Were Looking At, The Longer You Stared The Dizzier You Got.

I Weaned Myself On The Nostalgia Equivalent Of Methadone (less Addictive, Less Obvious, Less Likely To Make You Crazy): Missing What I Had Never Had.

One Of My Da's Tragedies Was Always The Fact That He Was Bright Enough To Understand Just How Comprehensively He Had Shat All Over His Life.