Better To Be At The Bottom Of

One Might Think That A Boy Who Was Out In The Snow For So Long Would Get Cold, But Max Was Not. He Was Warm, Partly Because He Had On Many Layers, And Partly Because Boys Who Are Part Wolf And Part Wind Do Not Get Cold.

There Is Travel And There Are Babies; Everything Else Is Drudgery And Death.

It All Meant Something. Until It Didn't.

Every Time I Get Through The Work On A Book Of Nonfiction, I Say I'll Never Do It Again; It Takes So Much Out Of You.

She Needs A New Journal. The One She Has Is Problematic. To Get To The Present, She Needs To Page Through The Past, And When She Does, She Remembers Things, And Her New Journal Entries Become, For The Most Part, Reactions To The Days She Regrets, Wants To Correct, Rewrite.