Then I Saw Her Smile So Close

Words Are Like Untying A Corset - You Can Move Into This Great Space With Them.

I Wouldn't Call My Work Modernist. I Would Rust If I Try To Think About Labels. I'd Feel Like The Tin Man In 'the Wizard Of Oz.

We're Well Past The End Of The Century When Time, For The First Time, Curved, Bent, Slipped, Flash Forwarded, And Flashed Back Yet Still Kept Rolling Along. We Know It All Now, With Our Thoughts Traveling At The Speed Of A Tweet, Our 140 Characters In Search Of A Paragraph. We're Post-history. We're Post-mystery.

All We Need To Do, Reader Or Writer, From First Line To Final Page, Is Be As Open As A Book, And Be Alive To The Life In Language - On All Its Levels.

A Game One Of My Sisters Will Play With Me In My First Year Of Being Alive Is Called Good Baby, Bad Baby. This Consists Of Being Told I Am A Good Baby Until I Smile And Laugh, Then Being Told I Am A Bad Baby Until I Burst Into Tears. This Training Will Stand Me In Good Stead All Through My Life.