There's an overlap between social-realist fiction and crime fiction - a sweet spot there.

I said shut up once already, with my mouth.

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

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

Pine trees with low limbs spread over fresh snow made a stronger vault for the spirit than pews and pulpits ever could.

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.

It's not always to the benefit of the story to have it so preordained.