When I start getting close to the end of a novel, something registers in the back of my mind for the next novel, so that I usually don't write, or take notes. And I certainly don't begin. I just allow things to percolate for a while.

...aware, as always, that the truth isn't much of substitute for a good answer.

HBO is really famous for hiring good people and staying out of their way until they ask for help, or need it. And that reputation is earned.

When you don't know what to do, try something; if that doesn't work, try something else.

What if all everybody needed in the world was to be sure of one friend? What if you were the one, and you refused to say those simple words?

When I look back over my novels what I find is that when I think I'm finished with a theme, I'm generally not. And usually themes will recur from novel to novel in odd, new guises.

He'd discovered that his memories of that summer were like bad movie montages - young lovers tossing a Frisbee in the park, sharing a melting ice-cream cone, bicycling along the river, laughing, talking, kissing, a sappy score drowning out the dialogue because the screenwriter had no idea what these two people might say to each other.