When I wrote
my second novel, Bellflower, I was thinking about the end of a life, making
sense of events and memories. I had seen loved ones lose their sense of time and place. At the end of my grandmother's life, she sometimes...
"As soon as we express something, we devalue it strangely. We believe ourselves to have dived down into the depths of the abyss, and when we once again reach the surface, the drops of water on our pale fingertips no longer resemble the ocean from which they came...Nevertheless, the treasure shimmers in the darkness unchanged." ---Franz Kafka
