Endings are never neat, because when life goes on, there is no end. You may want to speculate about what the characters get up to afterwards, but I feel it would be presumptuous of me to dictate that.

I definitely do feel a pull toward people and places that are far from my own life.

Just because we think of wolves (or the wilderness, or another race) as wild and fierce, doesn't mean there isn't another side to them.

If writers stuck to firsthand experience, novels would be pretty limited.

I don't think I could write about someone I didn't feel some sympathy for.

I despise this weakness in myself - this endless one-sided conversation that takes the place of action.

Clearly the secret of happiness...is a variation on the general principle of banging your head against a wall, and then stopping.