I'm Very Optimistic. I Think If You

Ideas Are Like Pizza Dough, Made To Be Tossed Around.

Look Around At The Azaleas Making Fuchsia Star Bursts In Spring; Look At A Full Moon Hanging Silver In A Black Sky On A Cold Night. And Realize That Life Is Glorious, And That You Have No Business Taking It For Granted.

I Sort Of Feel Like It Comes Around Again. That When You Get To A Certain Age, When You've Lived Enough And You've Got Your Friends To Support You And Your Family To Support You, You Wake Up One Morning And Think, Yeah, I'm Okay.

I Wondered Why I Hadn't Loved That Day More, Why I Hadn't Savored Every Bit Of It...why I Hadn't Known How Good It Was To Live So Normally, So Everyday. But You Only Know That, I Suppose, After It's Not Normal And Every Day Any Longer.

I Do Think There's Some Aspect Of Being A Novelist That Is A Little Crazy Making.