It's the first time I've been really worried. It's the first time I've written a book and thought, 'Can I do a better book?' I don't know if I can.

My own eyes try to sleep, but they don't. They stay wide awake as time snarls forward and silence drops down, like measured thought.

Every time you experiment with something, every time you've tried something, you can cross that off. Every time you find something that doesn't work, you're a step closer to what does work. Just do the work every day -- and do it and do it.

Grimly, she realized that clocks don't make a sound that even remotely resembles ticking, tocking. It was more the sound of a hammer, upside down, hacking methodically at the earth. It was the sound of a grave.

Time will tell, I suppose, or at least, these pages will.

Every time you find something that doesn't work, you're a step closer to what does work.