When I write, I aim in my mind not toward New York but toward a vague spot a little to the east of Kansas…

What would you do without your very favorite person?

What if you lost your grandfather, but he just won’t go away? And what if he’s got an agenda?

Writing a novel is like driving a car at night…

Given warning, these are the things I would do.

Imagine someone you knew did this for you on a daily basis. Imagine you were someone for someone else.

Moments are slippery things. We can record them, but there’s no true way to relive them. A ratty T-shirt that smells like your old boyfriend is not your old boyfriend.

What makes an editor know on the first page whether she will like the story? Look over your work and answer the following questions.