It Was A Good Moment, The Kind

And Sandy Martindale ... Dated Elvis Before The Rhinestone Jumpsuits And The Drugs, When He Was Sharp And Cool And Jagged, Like Porcelain That Has Been Hurled Against A Wall.

People Who Think There Is Something Pedestrian About Journalism Are Just Ignorant.

Passion Is Something You Really Don't Miss, After It Has Cooled. It Is Like Looking At An Empty Bottle On The Side Of The Road And Thinking, "boy, I Wish I Had A Coke." The Loves You Miss Are The Ones That Go Away When They Are Still Warm, Even Hot, To The Touch.

When You're A Sportswriter, You Learn How To Use Your Imagination And To Flex Your Literary Muscle, Because It's The Same Game Played Over And Over Again. There's Nothing Unique Or Marvelous. It's Not An Earthquake, Or A Weird Mass Murder. It's Just The Same Old Game Played Over And Over, And You Have To Bring Out The Personalities. You Have To Drag Them Kicking And Screaming Out Into The Light Of Day, Or You're Not A Good Sportswriter.

I Began Reading Harper Lee's Novel In The Skimpy Shade Of A Pine Outside My Grandmother's House, Fat Beagles Pressing Against Me, Begging For Attention, Ignored. At Dark, I Kept Reading, First On The Couch, A Bologna Sandwich In One Hand, Then In My Bed, By The Light Of A 60-watt Bulb Hanging From The Ceiling On An Orange Drop Cord. When My Mother Came In From Her Job As A Maid And Unplugged My Chandelier, I Replayed The Story In My Head Until It Was Crowded Out By Dreams. I Woke The Next Morning, Smelling Biscuits, And Reached For The Book Again.