The First Day Of The Rest Of

It's Always Sad If Anybody You Know Has A Personal Problem.

I Had A Teacher Once, Grade School Somewhere. Philippines, I Think, Because She Always Wore A Big White Hat. So It Was Somewhere Hot. I Was Always Twice The Size Of The Other Kids, And She Used To Say To Me: Count To Ten Before You Get Mad, Reacher. And I've Counted Way Past Ten On This One. Way Past.

I Have Three Desks. One Empty For Paperwork, One For The Internet And Email, And One For The Writing Computer.

He Looked At The Pain And He Set Himself Apart From It. He Saw It, Examined It, Identified It, Corralled It. He Isolated It. He Challenged It. You Against Me? Dream On, Pal. He Built Borders For It. Then Walls. He Built Walls And Forced The Pain Behind Them And Then He Moved The Walls Inward, Compressing The Pain, Crushing It, Boxing It In, Limiting It, Beating It.

Many Years From Now When Your Children Ask What New York City Was Like Just After 9/11, This Will Be The Book You Give Them In Response. It's An Exquisite Novel Full Of Heart, Soul, Passion And Intelligence, And It's The One This Great New York Author Was Born To Write.