Are The Dead As Lonesome

When Seriously Explored, The Short Story Seems To Me The Most Difficult And Disciplining Form Of Prose Writing Extant. Whatever Control And Technique I May Have I Owe Entirely To My Training In This Medium.

Reading Dreams. That's What Started Her Walking Down The Road. Every Day She'd Walk A Little Further: A Mile, And Come Home. Two Miles, And Come Home. One Day She Just Kept On.

It's A Very Excruciating Life Facing That Blank Piece Of Paper Every Day And Having To Reach Up Somewhere Into The Clouds And Bring Something Down Out Of Them.

One Always Likes One's Latest Book Best. That's A Natural Feeling.

I Got This Idea Of Doing A Really Serious Big Work-it Would Be Precisely Like A Novel, With A Single Difference: Every Word Of It Would Be True From Beginning To End.