I think my job is to try and be as honest as I can with what is in my mind and how I feel - I think that&#39;s what you&#39;re supposed to do, if you&#39;re a good writer. So I try to do that. I know I do that. I do do that.

Grief is a most peculiar thing; we're so helpless in the face of it.

Against firelight, he sees the face of the woman / Lean over, and the lips purse sweet as to bestow a kiss, but / This is not true, and the great glob of spit / Hangs there, glittering, before she lets it fall.  The spit is what softens like silk the passage of steel / On the fine-grained stone. It whispers.

car. I headed down CA-116—the winding road

Written By Laura Dave

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