It Takes A Year, Nephew... A Full

Was Love Then Like A Bag Of Assorted Sweets Passed Around From Which One Might Choose More Than Once? Some Might Sting The Tongue, Some Invoke Night Perfume. Some Had Centers As Bitter As Gall, Some Blended Honey And Poison, Some Were Quickly Swallowed. And Among The Common Bull's-eyes And Peppermints A Few Rare Ones; One Or Two With Deadly Needles At The Heart, Another That Brought Clam And Gentle Pleasure. Were His Fingers Closing On That One?

Walking On The Land Or Digging In The Fine Soil I Am Intensely Aware That Time Quivers Slightly, Changes Occurring In Imperceptible And Minute Ways, Accumulating So Subtly That They Seem Not To Exist. Yet The Tiny Shifts In Everything--cell Replication, The Rain Of Dust Motes, Lengthening Hair, Wind-pushed Rocks--press Inexorably On And On.

You Should Write Because You Love The Shape Of Stories And Sentences And The Creation Of Different Words On A Page. Writing Comes From Reading, And Reading Is The Finest Teacher Of How To Write.

... There Are Four Women In Every Man’s Heart. The Maid In The Meadow, The Demon Lover, The Stouthearted Woman, The Tall And Quiet Woman.

I Think It's Important To Leave Spaces In A Story For Readers To Fill In From Their Own Experience.