For the big stuff to work credibly, you've got to get the little stuff absolutely right.

You will not read voice on the page; you will hear it in your head.

The only way to write a novel is to proceed as if you had all the time in the world.

Voice really depends on the answer to the question, Who is telling this story? . . . That will color your diction-and determine your metaphors, your sensibility.

It's not enough simply to record the way people actually talk. The dialogue must be concentrated, shaped, dramatically moving, in a way that real-life conversation seldom is.

Storytelling is the art of unfolding knowledge in a way that makes each piece contribute to a larger truth.

But a writing project begins not just in doubt but also in faith-that if your passion is genuine, if you have mastered the elements of your craft, in the act of writing you will learn the rest of what you need to know in order to do justice to your subject.