Tomasi di Lampedusa’s language is relatively spare and direct but still formal and correct, and sprinkled with archaic terms. It is carnal and sophisticated, slyly humorous but still possessed of a kind of gravity and grace.
by Sonya Chung
Lampedusa’s eventual success at portraying a layered, multi-caste society . . . is testament to the power of literature to shape the imaginative and emotional capacity of a devoted reader, no matter how sheltered his daily life.
by Karen Rizzo
But Connie and Missy struck me as the lucky ones: They were perfectly happy being themselves. I was the one who wanted to be Mary Lou Retton.
by Robin Black
This, for him, is moving in, as for me painting walls and hanging pictures is. He is all about acquiring knowledge. I am all about recasting a place into what I want it to be.
by Robin Black
I was certain about cremation, but in fact a lot of our other opinions had softened over the years. . . . But softened isn’t really the right word. Our opinions didn’t soften. More accurately, we reacted to life.
I do a lot of writing in sections, montage, and then feel them out for the best order. In other words, a lot of tunneling—a hole here, one there, and eventually some catacombs emerge. It’s lovely when a structure asserts itself—it’s like being a lost child wandering in a crowded place and all of a sudden someone trustworthy grabs your hand and pulls you to safety.
by Lisa Peet
Everyone knows that the all-time worst query you can put to a creative person is Where do you get your ideas? I’m going to come clean here, though, and admit that I think it’s kind of a great question—maybe not to ask outright, but to wonder about.