You Don't Want To Write

The Trouble With All Of Us Is We Are Where We Shouldn't Be.

Everyone Has To Scratch On Walls Somewhere Or They Go Crazy

The Desert Could Not Be Claimed Or Owned — It Was A Piece Of Cloth Carried By Winds, Never Held Down By Stones, And Given A Hundred Shifting Names Before Canterbury Existed, Long Before Battles And Treaties Quilted Europe And The East ... All Of Us, Even Those With European Homes And Children In The Distance, Wished To Remove The Clothing Of Our Countries. It Was A Place Of Faith. We Disappeared Into Landscape.

This Was The Time In Her Life That She Fell Upon Books As The Only Door Out Of Her Cell. They Became Half Her World.

You Want To Suggest Something New, But At The Same Time, Resolve The Drama Of The Action In The Novel.