...History it seemed could be something entirely different a splash of blood whose agony didn't fade overnight or over centuries.

It was not the brutality of what occurred next that changed my mind and brought home to me the full meaning of fear. It was the brilliance of it.

I wondered why she craved this knowledge and found myself remembering that she was, after all, an anthropologist.

My publishers are wonderful because they have let me write what I wanted to. They're wise enough to know that, with any author who's not simply writing formulas - who's trying to create something new - pressuring them to do something for market purposes almost always backfires. I can't imagine working under those circumstances, actually.

Never before had I known the sudden quiver of understanding that travels from word to brain to heart, the way a new language can move, coil, swim into life under the eyes, the almost savage leap of comprehension, the instantaneous, joyful release of meaning, the way the words shed their printed bodies in a flash of heat and light.

For the first time, I had been struck by the excitement of the traveler who looks history in her subtle face.

I love to cook and I've cooked a lot of Bulgarian food over the years.