A good piece of fiction, in my view, does not offer solutions. Good stories deal with our moral struggles, our uncertainties, our dreams, our blunders, our contradictions, our endless quest for understanding. Good stories do not resolve the mysteries of the human spirit but rather describe and expand up on those mysteries.

What happened, and what might have happened?

The world shrieks and sinks talons into our hearts. This we call memory.

I live in my head all day long and the world is a little dreamy.

And as a writer now, I want to save Linda's life. Not her body--her life.

I cannot remember much, I cannot feel much. Maybe erasure is necessary. Maybe the human spirit defends itself as the body does, attacking infection, enveloping and destroying those malignancies that would otherwise consume us.

The presence of danger has a way of making you feel fully awake.