You Do Your Best Work When You're

In Fiction, You Have A Rough Idea What's Coming Up Next - Sometimes You Even Make A Little Outline - But In Fact You Don't Know. Each Day Is A Whole New - And For Me, A Very Invigorating - Experience.

When We Are Mired In The Relative World, Never Lifting Our Gaze To The Mystery, Our Life Is Stunted, Incomplete; We Are Filled With Yearning For That Paradise That Is Lost When, As Young Children, We Replace It With Words And Ideas And Abstractions - Such As Merit, Such As Past, Present, And Future - Our Direct, Spontaneous Experience Of The Thing Itself, In The Beauty And Precision Of This Present Moment.

And Only The Enlightened Can Recall Their Former Lives; For The Rest Of Us, The Memories Of Past Existences Are But Glints Of Light, Twinges Of Longing, Passing Shadows, Disturbingly Familiar, That Are Gone Before They Can Be Grasped, Like The Passage Of That Silver Bird On Dhaulagiri.

I Like To Hear And Smell The Countryside, The Land That My Characters Inhabit. I Don’t Want These Characters To Step Off The Page, I Want Them To Step Out Of The Landscape.

I Have Never Figured Out How Women Work But I Do Know That Their Skin Color Has No Significance. Black Or White, Every Last One Is Pretty Pink On The Inside And They Are All Impossible.