The Voice of the River is a beautifully written, deeply inclusive and profoundly spirtual work of art. I am moved by its great genorosity above all, and its wisdom. It is a gift like no other.

But sometimes even the sky is dangerous. I look up and see your face in the stars.

Deliriously imagined, The Mothering Coven is a work of wonder. Joanna Ruocco arrives: marvelous, and fully sprung!

One of the strangest things about writing well is that it requires two different zones in the brain--rigor and recklessness--simultaneously.

If writing is language and language is desire and longing and suffering . . . then why when we write, when we make shapes on paper, why then does it so often look like the traditional, straight models, why does our longing look for example like John Updike's longing?

The future will be gorgeous and reckless, and words, those luminous charms, will set us free again.

Truth be told, there is not one day that goes by when I don't fall in love with someone, with something.