A faint smell of lilac filled the air. There was always lilac in this part of town. Where there were grandmothers, there was always lilac.

For while agents and editors often misunderstand their market and sometimes reject good or even great works, they do prevent a vast quantity of truly execrable writing from being published.

Every small town that I had ever been to had had a caboose.

Writers would be warm, loyal, and otherwise terrific people-if only they'd stop writing.

Dreams would always end with you, and then mornings would steal you away with a cruelty that haunted my days.

Buying a book is not about obtaining a possession, but about securing a portal.

In the year since we brought things into the open with a clean breath of fresh air at City Hall, we have learned about corrupt spending practices and unethical conflicts of interest that waste your money... and keep Dallas from being the great city of our dreams.