I would have stayed forever within the garden of Re-mose's childhood, but time is a mother's enemy.

The Bible - it's sort of the other person in the room. There's this book, the reader, and the Bible.

I got nice rejections explaining that historical fiction was a difficult sell. But I kept trying.

One of my favorite poets, Neruda, writes close to the bone. Though I know only a little Spanish, I like to compare the Spanish and English lines and see how the translator worked.

I like the way he danced. And then I like the way we danced together.

Of all life's pleasures, only love owes no debt to death.

It's a wonder that any mother ever called a daughter Dinah again. But some did. Maybe you guessed that there was more to me than the voiceless cipher in the text. Maybe you heard it in the music of my name: the first vowel high and clear, as when a mother calls to her child at dusk; the second sound soft, for whispering secrets on pillows. Dee-nah.