Once You're Involved In The Work, It's

Language Is Such A Powerful Thing. After The Earthquake, I Went To Haiti And People Were Talking About How [they] Described This Feeling Of Going Through An Earthquake. People Really Didn't Have The Vocabulary - Before We Had Hurricanes. I'd Talk With People And They'd Say, "we Have To Name It; It Has To Have A Name."

Misery Won't Touch You Gentle. It Always Leaves Its Thumbprints On You; Sometimes It Leaves Them For Others To See, Sometimes For Nobody But You To Know Of.

There Is Always A Place Where, If You Listen Closely In The Night, You Will Hear A Mother Telling A Story And At The End Of The Tale, She Will Ask You This Question: 'ou Libéré?' Are You Free, My Daughter?" My Grandmother Quickly Pressed Her Fingers Over My Lips. Now," She Said, "you Will Know How To Answer.

Salt Is A Powerful Symbol In Haiti, As Elsewhere. Salt Of The Earth, For Example Is An American Phrase. In Haiti, Myth And Legend Has It That If You Are Turned Into A Zombie, If Someone Gives You A Taste Of Salt, Then You Can Come Back To Life. And In The Life Of The Fishermen, There Are So Many Little Things About Salt That I Wanted To Incorporate. The Salt In The Air. The Crackling Of Salt In The Fire. There's All This Damage, This Peeling Of The Fishing Boats From The Sea Salt. But There Is Also Healing From It, Sea Baths That Are Supposed To Heal All Kinds Of Aches And Wounds.

I Remember Reading An Interview With A Writer Who Said That In Nonfiction If You Have One Lie It Sort Of Messes It Up. But In Fiction The Real Details Give You So Much More Credibility, Because People Do So Much Research Just To Write Fiction. In Fiction You're Trying To Recreate Something Lifelike.