I Think That Writers Are,

To Each Other, We Were As Normal And Nice As The Smell Of Bread. We Were Just A Family. In A Family Even Exaggerations Make Perfect Sense.

. . .there Are Moments When Time Does Stop. We Must Be Alert Enough To Notice Such Moments . . .

A Sentence Boiled In Her, But She Could Not Yet See It Clearly.

When Writing A Novel, I'm Not Smart Enough To Know How To Foreshadow Something If I Don't Know What It Is.

I Have Always Believed That, In A Story, If Something Traumatic Or Calamitous Enough Happens To A Kid At A Formative Age, That Will Make Him Or Her The Adult They Become.