There Is Nothing Worse Than War In

So Here I Am, Sending A Two-ounce Mouse Down Into A Dungeon With A Sewing Needle To Save A Human Princess, And I Don't Know How In The World He's Going To Do It. I Have No Idea. That Was The First Time It Occurred To Me That Writing The Story Was Roughly Equivalent To Despereaux's Descent Into The Dungeon. I Was Tremendously Aware Of That As I Was Writing. I Thought, "i Have To Be Brave Or Else I'm Not Going To Be Able To Tell It." But It's The Only Way That I Can Write. If I Know What's Going To Happen, I'm Not Interested In Telling The Story.

When I Get To A Point In My Book Writing When I Don't Know What I'm Going To Do Next, I'll Come Back Look At Underlined Passages And See If The Images I Wrote Still Have A Certain Amount Of Resonance For Me.

Never In His Life Had Edward Been Cradled Like A Baby. Abilene Had Not Done It. Nor Had Nellie. And Most Certainly, Bull Had Not. It Was A Singular Sensation To Be Held So Gently And Yet So Fiercely, To Be Stared Down At With So Much Love. Edward Felt The Whole Of His China Body Flood With Warmth. (page 128)

Everything When I Was A Kid Was Illustrated.

It's Hard Not To Immediately Fall In Love Witha Dog Who Has A Good Sense Of Humor.