I grew up in Seattle, but I always knew I wanted to leave.
When I went to college I took a creative writing class and decided in a week to be a writer.
It's a brooding melancholy that haunts me.
There are things in this universe that we cannot control, and then there are the things we can. . . . Let fate, coincidence, and accident conspire; human beings must act on reason.
I'm not an urban person.
When it comes time to sit down and write the next book, you're deathly afraid that you're not up to the task. That was certainly the case with me after Snow Falling on Cedars.