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I think about my mother singing after lunch on a Summer afternoon, twirling in blue dress across the floor of her dressing room

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I sit quietly and think about my mom. It's funny how memory erodes, If all I had to work from were my childhood memories, my knowledge of my mother wo...more

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Have you ever found your heart's desire and then lost it? I had seen myself, a portrait of myself as a reader. My childhood: days home sick from schoo...more

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When I began writing The Night Bookmobile, it was a story about a woman's secret life as a reader. As I worked it also became a story about the claims...more

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I make books because I love them as objects; because I want to put the pictures and the words together, because I want to tell a story.

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one of the best and the most painful things about time traveling has been the opportunity to see my mother alive.