…anyone who thinks that all fruits ripen at the same time as strawberries, knows nothing of grapes.
—― Paracelsus, Four Treatises of Theophrastus Von Hohenheim Called Paracelsus
Stay impish. Stay curious. Stay crazy. Don’t follow directions. Don’t compromise. Don’t settle. Don’t take anything for granted. Push yourself. Take chances. Ask yourself how you can write the contemporary rather than rewrite the past. Try to fail in ways that interest you.
Family ties, blood ties, thicker-than-water-connections, clans, your folks, where-you-come-from, what-you-are-made-of: your people are your people, yours and no one else’s, linked up long before you and long after, in a body chain of inevitability, an unavoidable done-deal populated with truck drivers and homemakers, poker players and prostitutes, murderers and more. Hers were immigrant Scot/Irish and indigenous American Indian, pioneers of mixed blood and mixed meanings; robbers, conjurers and outlaws, with dirt under their nails, full heads of thick hair, and high cheekbones. They were workers, raiders, and runners—women and men with stories she might never fully know, but might live to understand—tales of revenge and loss, of envy and greed and hope—of surviving only on the run.
The right ending is an open door you can’t see too far out of. It can mean exactly the opposite of what you are thinking.
—―Michael Ondaatje, Coming Through Slaughter