Murder, arson, adultery, drugging and drinking, cruel politics--reading a book crammed with such activities can make the timid and yearning among us feel like the happiest people in the world.
They were relieved that I was chosen by a human being, she'd said to Angelica in her dry voice. They were braced for an interspecies liaison.
Still she wondered: did the present deliver up the future, or must you chase your destiny like a harpoonist?
It's very important for a writer to be unnoticed, as quiet and unnoticed as possible.
I am slow. A sentence often takes an hour to compose before I throw it out. What can you do?