I Really Try To Write Every Day.

When I'm Drafting, I Suppose It's An Intuitive Process - Figuring Out When Something Just Has A Surreal Glaze On It And When It Grapples With Something That Could Threaten A Character's Day-to-day Reality.

Pain Collected Into Deep Pockets And I Was Aware Of This Painbut Somehow I Could Not Seem To Feel It. It Was Like A Body-deafness.

I Would Love To Travel Around The World Working For A Travel Company Taking Students Abroad On Cultural Immersion Trips.

My Older Sister Has Entire Kingdoms Inside Of Her, And Some Of Them Are Only Accessible At Certain Seasons, In Certain Kinds Of Weather. One Such Melting Occurs In Summer Rain, At Midnight, During The Vine-green Breathing Time Right Before Sleep. You Have To Ask The Right Question, Throw The Right Rope Bridge, To Get There-and Then Bolt Across The Chasm Between You, Before Your Bridge Collapses.

People Really Get Myopic As They Get Older. We're Not A Culture That Encourages Dreaming Or Distraction. We're Not Ever Good At Just Being. I Remember Reading Some Adrienne Rich Quote Where She Talks About How Important It Was Just To Watch Bubbles Rise In A Glass.