The unfolding of a story is both as exciting and as difficult for each and every novel I&#39;ve written, regardless of time and place.

Gli occhi degli altri sono le nostre prigioni, i loro pensieri le nostre gabbie.

How I would enjoy being told the novel is dead. How liberating to work in the margins, outside a central perception. You are the ghoul of literature.

You’re coming with me, poor thing. You don’t know how to listen. You don’t know how to speak. You don’t know how to sing. I will teach you.” I followed poetry.

Written By Joy Harjo

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