My boyfriend made it for me for Christmas so I can wear it at every book signing and event that I do moving forward. I’m wearing a big black sweatshirt with a picture of you on it. I sit here in my office, surrounded by the things I love-all the things that inspire me and fuel my work. There will be no more wisdom that can make a spiritualist out of an atheist, at least within the context of your literary cosmology and the great thoughts and ideas that you’ve put forth within the pages of your numerous novels. There will be no more barriers and definitions of genre broken by you. If I begin, then it means you are really dead.
It is no closer to me than you are now to your own body. But the beginning? The start? That eludes me. Things I have mulled over, words I have sought and sentences I tweaked and refined. I have so much of what I want to say all thought up.
0 kommentar(er)
