The Tale Of Despereaux Came At The

Mercy Watson Is Pure Fun For Me As A Writer, Because I Think Of Her As Kind Of Sorbet - A Palate Cleanser - Between Larger Works. It's Always A Relief To Come Back To Her.

My Father Leaving The Family Shaped Who I Was And How I Looked At The World. By The Same Token, My Father Telling Me Fairy Tales That He Had Made Up Shaped Me Profoundly, Too.

He Was Weeping. Although 'weeping' Really Is To Small A Word For The Activity The Kind Had Undertaken. Tears Were Cascading From His Eyes. A Small Puddle Had Formed At His Feet. I Am Not Exaggerating. The King, It Seemed, Was Intent On Crying Himself A River.

I Am Single And Childless, But I Have Lots Of Friends And I Am An Aunt To Three Lovely Children.

We All Live In Fear Of Getting Blocked No Matter What Kind Of Art We're Trying To Do. It Happens All The Time, But I Prefer To Think Of It As A Bad Day.