I think more people now have relationships with agents than with editors. And I don't have an agent.

Editors always want to know what you're working on, what you're thinking about.

Odd, isn't it? You know when your birthday is, but not your death day, even though you pass the date year after year, never suspecting that some day.

I never thought that people my own age could die, let alone be murdered. Things like that didn't happen in 1955. The suburbs were a safe place, where nobody even locked their doors.

I still have this deep-down fear that if I go poking into the bushes I might find a dead body.

I think it's dead bodies that really haunt me.

I wished that the chains would break and the wind would sweep me up, up, up into the sky, beyond the clouds, beyond the sun and the moon, to some marvelous kingdom where no one ever changed and friends were friends for life.