The story it told was unremarkable: a tale of love found and lost- the oldest story in the world. The only story.

It was one of those perfect fall days when the air is cool enough to wake you up but the sun is also kissing your face.

I am so honored to be the vessel into which you pour this story of pain and strength.

I lived through a classic publishing story. My editor was fired a month before the book came out. The editor who took it over already had a full plate. It was never advertised. We didn't get reviewed in any major outlets.

It is terrible how much has been forgotten, which is why, I suppose, remembering seems a holy thing.

The other reason women wanted daughters was to keep their memories alive.

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