I am just at tragedy right now.
There are moments when rather than reforming the human race I'd like to abandon it altogether and go become, say, one of Dr. O'Reilly's macaques, which have to have more sense.
I learned everything I know about plot from Dame Agatha (Christie).
I have never written anything in one draft, not even a grocery list, although I have heard from friends that this is actually possible.
I have great faith in the future of books - no matter what form they may take - and of science fiction.
Why do only the awful things become fads? I thought. Eye-rolling and Barbie and bread pudding. Why never chocolate cheesecake or thinking for yourself?
And every place and time an author writes about is imaginary, from Oz to Raymond Chandler's L. A. to Dickens's London.
There emanates from superlatives a destructive force.
It's not enough to be tolerant. . . now we're finally moving towards the idea of acceptance.
If you are tuning in just for the show, you're going to be sorely disappointed.
When I first arrived in beautiful Zimbabwe, it was difficult to understand that 35 percent of the population is HIV positive. It really wasn't until I was invited to the homes of people that I started to understand the human toll of the epidemic.