After a while, the characters I'm writing begin to feel real to me. That's when I know I'm heading in the right direction

A red map isn't easy to follow. Any document made of blood and bones is tricky. Wrong turns are easily made, and there are often piles of stones in the road. A person has to disregard time and sorrow and all the damage done. If you follow, if you dare, the thread always leads to whomever or whatever you've forgotten.

Are people drawn to each other because of the stories they carry inside?

Even in times when it's difficult to figure out, how do you go forward, art - and books - always help

Hearts were made for being broken. There's really no way around it if you want to be a human being.

Even as a small child, I understood that woman had secrets, and that some of these were only to be told to daughters. In this way we were bound together for eternity.

She didn't like being twelve. It felt like someplace between who she'd been and who she was about to be. It felt like no place at all.