Great things are done by a series of small things brought together. -Vincent van Gogh I'm in the middle of a big sort.  In Vincent’s words, a bunch of small things like puzzle pieces I’m hoping will eventually fit into a complete picture.  The sorting is between fact vs. fiction. Squish a timeline or reflect it accurately? Write only about real people or add imaginary ones? The final arrangement will need to be a mix of real and unreal. Even though my novel is a story based

“If you ask me what I came into this life to do, I will tell you: I came to live out loud.” — Emile Zola To live out loud! As in, not shutting up about why you're here. As in, interrupting everyone within ear shot when you are consumed by your need to communicate. As in, ignoring polite chitchat--in fact, rejecting eloquence and appropriateness and perfection--and following gut instinct to spill out your unedited thoughts and YELL until you're heard. OK, that's my 4-month-old

“I wonder if we are all wrong about each other, if we are just composing unwritten novels about the people we meet?” — Rebecca West I know I do. Consider these folks: The young Parisian train ticket agent. Did he truly not understand "Round Trip" in the middle of my broken-French? Or did he sell us One Way's on purpose? (We get stuck behind automatic security gates that stubbornly remain shut, even though we mimic scores of other train travelers that scan and exit the sliding