I Never Want To Be A Role

Seasons Passed, Fall And Winter And Spring And Summer. Leaves Blew In Through The Open Door Of Lucius Clarke’s Shop, And Rain, And The Green Outrageous Hopeful Light Of Spring. People Came And Went, Grandmothers And Doll Collectors And Little Girls With Their Mothers. Edward Tulane Waited. The Seasons Turned Into Years. Edward Tulane Waited. He Repeated The Old Doll’s Words Over And Over Until They Wore A Smooth Groove Of Hope In His Brain: Someone Will Come; Someone Will Come For You.

What Would Make Me Happiest Is If Kids Read These Books [bink & Gollie] And Think: There Is So Much To Love In The World; And Words Are So Much Fun.

Nothing New Ever Happens In The Books. It's The Same Old Theme.

I Thought I Was Going Nowhere. Now I Can See There Was A Pattern.

I'm Predisposed To Think That As A People, We're Hardwired To Understand Things Through The Telling Of Stories. I Think That As Human Beings It's Part Of Who We Are.