I have a book in the pipeline of short stories. You want to hear an agent scream, say 'I'm thinking about doing a collection of short stories set in the Ozarks.

When I left Iowa, I definitely never wanted to stand in front of a group of academics again and see if they approved of me. I made up my mind to take my work to the actual reading public.

But I've been at writing long enough now to know that every three or four books I have to start a new direction.

Ree, brunette and sixteen, with milk skin and abrupt green eyes, stood bare-armed in a fluttering yellowed dress, face to the wind, her cheeks reddening as if smacked and smacked again.

This is how sudden things happened that haunted forever.

I always loved the verve and vivacity of pulp and I kind of merged it with my own interest in family stories.

Never. Never ask for what ought to be offered.