Grief, It Seemed, Was A Physical Place.

Its Impossible To Control The Reception Of Your Work - The Only Thing You Can Control Is The Experience Of Writing Itself, And The Work You Create.

He Had Never Even Glimpsed Her.

This Was Her Life. Not The Life She Had Once Dreamed Of, Not A Life Her Younger Self Would Ever Have Imagined Or Desired, But The Life She Was Living, With All Its Complexities. This Was Her Life, Built With Care And Attention, And It Was Good.

My First Job Was In A Nursing Home - A Terrible Place In Retrospect. It Was In An Old House, And The Residents Were So Lonely. People Rarely Visited Them. I Only Stayed There A Couple Of Months, But It Made A Strong Impression On Me.

After Memory Keepers Daughter, It Took Me A Few Months To Shut Out The World. I Really Had To Turn Off The Internet And Sort Of Cloister Myself Away From The World Again And Sink Into That Psychic Space To Write Again.