How we remember changes how we have lived. Time runs both ways. We make stories of our lives.

She had been a solitary child, and then solitary as a woman, drawn into an orbit of her own that took her away from others, even those who would be her friends.

Men made wagers with their judgment, their allegiances, their resources.

As many have noted, the peril for authors is that our work space is too easily our play space.

We are all shaped by where we grow up, though that shaping takes different forms. I dont think theres any doubt that coming of age in Winnipeg both opened my eyes and made me hungry - if I can subvert all claims to be a real writer by mixing metaphors like that.

When I was 18 years old, in a more innocent time, my first backpacking trip through Europe, I sneaked into the Temple of Saturn in the Roman Forum after nightfall and spent several hours in there avoiding the guards patrolling.

The world could bring you poison in a jewelled cup, or surprising gifts. Sometimes you didn't know which of them it was.