This Is What Art Is All About.

A Good Story Is Alive, Ever Changing And Growing As It Meets Each Listener Or Reader In A Spirited And Unique Encounter, While The Moralistic Tale Is Not Only Dead On Arrival, It's Already Been Embalmed. It's Safer That Way. When A Lively Story Goes Dancing Out To Meet The Imagination Of A Child, The Teller Loses Control Over Meaning. The Child Gets To Decide What The Story Means.

Since My First Novel Was Rescued From A Slush Pile, It Makes Me Sad That Most Publishing Houses No Longer Accept Unsolicited Manuscripts. Nor Are Many Willing To Take Chances On Novels That Are Not Deemed Immediately "marketable."

You Think It's So Great To Die And Make Everyone Cry And Carry On. Well It Ain't.

We Humans Have Had From Time Unknown The Compulsion To Name Things And Thus To Be Able To Deal With Them. The Name We Give To Something Shapes Our Attitude Toward It. And In Ancient Thought The Name Itself Has Power, So That To Know Someone's Name Is To Have A Certain Power Over Him. And In Some Societies, As You Know, There Was A Public Name And A Real Or Secret Name, Which Would Not Be Revealed To Others.

My Heart Is Heavy, She Thought. It’s Not Just A Saying. It Is What Is—heavy, A Great Stone Lodged In My Breast, Pressing Down My Whole Being. How Can I Even Stand Straight And Look Out Upon The World? I Am Doubled Over Into Myself And, For All The Weight, Find Only Emptiness.