I think for everybody reading can be a solace, illumination, education.

Have you, in truth, ever seen something so heartbreakingly lovely? What are we to make of a world where stars shine bright in the midst of so much darkness and gloom?

I loved school; I loved the rules, and I liked there being right answers, wrong answers, and being able to give the right answer all the time. And that goes against who many would predict is going to go out and break rules and tell stories for a living.

Everything, as you well know . . . cannot always be sweetness and light.

Mercy Watson is a pig. She lives with Mr. and Mrs. Watson, who are not pigs. I had that basic premise, but I couldn't make it work. I would come back to it, try it, see that I was failing, and put it aside.

I am just always, always paying attention - waiting for the words, or image, or name that will be the beginning of a story.

If I am just home and writing, I become very strange.