As a writer, I find it a literal impossibility to disengage from whatever the location might be, given how everything that eventually transpires as part of the ongoing narrative is informed by it. In other words, try relocating the stories elsewhere, and what's the effect? They almost immediately cease to exist.

When Kevin Brockmeier says, "Everything, given the possibility, would choose to be a song," I recognize the implicit truth of such a miracle. What can I say, I'm Irish, and we take naturally to that sort of thing.

Once a poet always a poet, and even though I haven't written poems for a long time, I can nonetheless say that everything I've ever learned about writing lyrical fiction has been informed by three decades of writing in lines and stanzas. For me the real drama of fiction is almost always the drama of the language.

As David Roderick says about writing, "It's not the tale that pleases, it's the telling," and I could not agree more.

When Robert Bly visited Interlochen Center for the Arts so many years ago, he spoke to the creative writing majors and said, "The eye reports to the brain, but the ear reports to the heart." Perhaps this is the thing that musicians can do that writers can't ever, quite, but it is what I aspire to, that sense/power of the auditory, and the belief that to hear more clearly is to see more clearly, and that to see more clearly is to feel more deeply.

First of all, I don't think of myself as a northern Michigan writer. I think of myself as an American writer who happens - and yes, by choice, and for a long time now - to live in this particular place, and where, as the joke goes, there are only three seasons: July, August, and winter.

Nothing is more fatiguing than winter, the extreme and unrelenting snow and below zero temperatures, and the seemingly unbearable sameness of the days without sunshine, and the measures one takes - if they're locals, permanent residents - against an environment such as this. And most vulnerable/susceptible are the kids, who have no options other than to scheme and dream themselves into all kinds of trouble.