We're all going to die; I'm just trying to make it a little more interesting.

...for the first time in my life, writing was hard. The problem was the teaching...by most Friday afternoons I felt as if I'd spent the week with jumper cables clamped to my brain.

I stood for almost an hour in a line of shuffling, bitter - eyed late mailers (Christmas is such a carefree, low - pressure time - that's one of the things I love about it).

The quiet, singing voice of the rose. The song that promised all might be well, all might be well, that all manner of things might be well.

When you start, it's very cold, an impossible task. But then maybe the characters start to take on a little bit of life, or the story takes a turn that you don't expect ... With me that happens a lot because I don't outline, I just have a vague notion. So it's always felt like less of a made thing and more of a found thing. That's exciting. That's a thrill.

Want a Coke?” Abra asked. “Sugar solves lots of problems, that’s what I think.

And in the gunslinger's mind, those words echoed: You dare not.