I Like To Think That It Isn't

If I Could Write The Perfect Novella I Would Die Happy.

You Can Tell A Lot From A Person's Nails. When A Life Starts To Unravel, They're Among The First To Go.

No One Knows Anything, Really. It's All Rented, Or Borrowed.

What Reader Wants To Be Told What Attitude To Strike?

How Can A Novelist Achieve Atonement When, With Her Absolute Power Of Deciding Outcomes, She Is Also God? There Is No One, No Entity Or Higher Form That She Can Appeal To, Or Be Reconciled With, Or That Can Forgive Her. There Is Nothing Outside Her. In Her Imagination She Has Set The Limits And The Terms. No Atonement For God, Or Novelists, Even If They Are Atheists. It Was Always An Impossible Task, And That Was Precisely The Point. The Attempt Was All.