Come On, Is Your Heart A Sponge

When I Hit A Block, Regardless Of What I Am Writing, What The Subject Matter Is, Or What's Going On In The Plot, I Go Back And I Read Pablo Neruda's Poetry. I Don't Actually Speak Spanish, So I Read It Translation. But I Always Go Back To Neruda. I Don't Know Why, But It Calms Me, Calms My Brain.

Wash The Bones, Bring The Body, Leave The Heart Behind.

Suddenness," He Says. " You Do Not Prepare, You Do Not Explain, You Do Not Apologize. Suddenly, You Go. And With You, You Take All Contemplation, All Consideration Of Your Own Departure. All The Suffering That Would Have Come From Knowing Comes After You Are Gone, And You Are Not A Part Of It.

Everything Necessary To Understand My Grandfather Lies Between Two Stories: The Story Of The Tiger’s Wife, And The Story Of The Deathless Man. These Stories Run Like Secret Rivers Through All The Other Stories Of His Life – Of My Grandfather’s Days In The Army; His Great Love For My Grandmother; The Years He Spent As A Surgeon And A Tyrant Of The University. One, Which I Learned After His Death, Is The Story Of How My Grandfather Became A Man; The Other, Which He Told To Me, Is Of How He Became A Child Again.

I Think The Mythology Of Death Really Ran Away With Me When I Was Very Young.