And suddenly the world was filled with wooden faces and flat voices - and, you were alone.

On the last morning of Virginia's bloodiest year since the Civil War, I built a fire and sat facing a window of darkness where at sunrise I knew I would find the sea.

He was pushing fifty, with a face life had chewed on, and long wisps of graying hair parted low on one side and combed over his balding pate.

In the first person, the readers feel smart, like it's them solving the case.

I've never taken a scalpel to a dead body.

To almost die is to know that one day you will, and to never again feel the same about anything.

Even if you are a best-seller you feel insecure because it is all so unpredictable.