It seems natural to surround my fictional world with animals because my reality is full of them. When I'm sitting there conceiving a story, they just pop up.
I don't like outlining, because books are organic things. Sometimes a book doesn't want to be written in a certain way.
Gorillas are in danger of being wiped out by the Ebola virus. I feel like we have limited time to get to know them and understand them and they're going to disappear - that's terrifically sad. Wouldn't it be great if we could stop that?
I just think I'm better equipped to make a study of human personality than trying to get into the mind of animals.
I scan the room. Catherine is writing quickly, her light brown hair falling over her face. She is left-handed, and because she writes in pencil her left arm is silver from wrist to elbow.
After sixty-one years together, she simply clutched my hand and exhaled.
