A novel is torment. It needs structure, tending of language, constant shaping, refinement, excision, and cumulative insights that might give it breath and breadth. I have to carry a thousand pieces in an increasingly complex configuration toward the luminous vision of a story that remains a mirage. I am driven to make each piece as perfect as I hope it can be, while making the story that is composed of those pieces feel spontaneous, effortless, and without gyre and gimble showing at the seams.