You Just Kind Of Have Faith. If

When I Start Getting Close To The End Of A Novel, Something Registers In The Back Of My Mind For The Next Novel, So That I Usually Don't Write, Or Take Notes. And I Certainly Don't Begin. I Just Allow Things To Percolate For A While.

I Think That If People Are Instructed About Anything, It Should Be About The Nature Of Cruelty. And About Why People Behave So Cruelly To Each Other. And What Kind Of Satisfactions They Derive From It. And Why There Is Always A Cost, And A Price To Be Paid.

Structure Is One Of The Things That I Always Hope Will Reveal Itself To Me.

Since Her Retirement From Teaching Miss Beryl's Health Had In Many Respects Greatly Improved, Despite Her Advancing Years. An Eighth-grade Classroom Was An Excellent Place To Snag Whatever Was In The Air In The Way Of Illness. Also Depression, Which, Miss Beryl Believed, In Conjunction With Guilt, Opened The Door To Illness. Miss Beryl Didn't Know Any Teachers Who Weren't Habitually Guilty And Depressed-guilty They Hadn't Accomplished More With Their Students, Depressed That Very Little More Was Possible.

You Use Simple Brushstrokes In A Screenplay For Things Over Which You Would Take Much Greater Pains In A Novel.