Wash The Bones, Bring The

You Never Know What's Going To Happen In Your Life, And You Never Know What's Going To Happen In Someone Else's Life Either.

In The Mess Of Moving From Place To Place, I Skipped Two Grades In The Space Of One Year.

When Your Fight Has Purpose - To Free You From Something, To Interfere On The Behalf Of An Innocent - It Has A Hope Of Finality. When The Fight Is About Unraveling - When It Is About Your Name, The Places To Which Your Blood Is Anchored, The Attachment Of Your Name To Some Landmark Or Event - There Is Nothing But Hate, And The Long, Slow Progression Of People Who Feed On It And Are Fed It, Meticulously, By The Ones Who Come Before Them. Then The Fight Is Endless, And Comes In Waves And Waves, But Always Retains Its Capacity To Surprise Those Who Hope Against It.

My Mother Always Says That Fear And Pain Are Immediate, And That, When They're Gone We're Left With The Concept, But Not The True Memory.

At The End Of The Day, It's About The Reader's Attachment To And Belief In The Magical Elements That Make Or Break Magical Realism.