Writers Like To Write, And Writing In

A Snow Day Literally And Figuratively Falls From The Sky, Unbidden, And Seems Like A Thing Of Wonder.

I'm Much More Willing To Buy A Novel Electronically By Someone I Don't Know. Because If Halfway Through I Think, I Don't Really Like This, I Can Just Stop. I Can't Throw Books Out, Even If I Think They're Crummy. I Feel Like I've Got To Give It To The Library. I've Got To Loan It To Somebody, Or I Keep It On My Shelf. It's Like A Plant.

An Ordinary Life Examined Closely Reveals Itself To Be Exquisite And Complicated And Exceptional, Somehow Managing To Be Both Heroic And Plain.

It Seems That Half The Point Of Being In Miami Beach - Particularly The Northern End Of South Beach - Is To Be Observed By People-watchers Like Me, And The Display Along Ocean Drive During My Visit Was, As Always, Sublime.

I Think On A Day-to-day Basis, What Attracts Us In Coexisting With Another Living, Evolving Thing, Is That You Have A Relationship That's Different Than With A Piece Of Furniture. We Experience The Cycle Of Life Through These Other Beings.