It was all because of his no-good-dirty-rotten-pig-stealinggreat-great-grandfather!

If only, if only," the woodpecker sighs, "The bark on the tree was as soft as the skies." While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely, Crying to the moo-oo-oon, "If only, If only.

I'm not stupid. I know everybody thinks I am. I just don't like answering their questions.

I'm no good at describing my books. 'Holes' has been out now for seven years, and I still can't come up with a good answer when asked what that book is about.

You're responsible for yourself. You messed up your life, and it's up to you to fix it. No one else is going to do it for you -- for any of you.

Part of me becomes the characters I'm writing about. I think readers feel like they are there, the way I am, as a result.

I write in the mornings, two or three hours every day, and then at least four times a week I play in a duplicate game at a bridge club. I try to go to tournaments three, four, or five times a year.