But We Cannot Unbraid The Story Of

Never Be So Focused On What You're Looking For That You Overlook The Thing You Actually Find.

If I Was A Waitress, I Was Too Tired At The End Of The Day When I Came Home To Try To Write.

I Was Starting To Wonder If I Was Ready To Be A Writer, Not Someone Who Won Prizes, Got Published And Was Given The Time And Space To Work, But Someone Who Wrote As A Course Of Life. Maybe Writing Wouldn't Have Any Rewards. Maybe The Salvation I Would Gain Through Work Would Only Be Emotional And Intellectual. Wouldn't That Be Enough, To Be A Waitress Who Found An Hour Or Two Hidden In Every Day To Write?

Love Was Action. It Came To You. It Was Not A Choice.

My Novels Are Very Much The Same, As I Think Many People's Novels Are. No Matter How Hard I Try To Do Otherwise, The Books Always Wind Up Being "a Group Of Strangers Are Thrown Together By Circumstance And Form A Society."