The mystery at the center of 'Burial Rites' is not who killed whom on the night of March 13, 1828. It is the mystery each of us encounters: Can we every truly know another? Can we ever truly know ourselves?

I have a deep and ongoing love of Iceland, particular the landscape, and when writing 'Burial Rites,' I was constantly trying to see whether I could distill its extraordinary and ineffable qualities into a kind of poetry.

I used to have 20/20 vision, believe it or not; that's gone because of all the reading I did when I wasn't supposed to, reading in the back of a car, waiting for each street light to go past so I could grab another sentence.

Aaron Brooks had a bad game. He's had three fabulous games and he picked a tough night for us to have a bad game. We put Brandon in and he settled us. And he did a good job.

There are secrets at the heart of every story; there is something that must be uncovered or discovered, both by the reader and by the characters.

For me personally, some of the mysteries often center on their burial places.