“I feel that books are the real keepers of history. I find it wonderful and eerie that language lasts so much longer than people, and that a book can transmit history from one generation to another, whether or not it’s actually a work of history.”—Elizabeth Kostova, About.com interview
“I was so busy trying to make a living, I just wrote whenever I could…. I think in a way that was a great lesson for me. Sometimes I had to get up very early in the morning. One summer, I was working hard and I wrote from 5 to 7:30 every morning. Often I wrote late at night. For instance, if I was on a trip I took a notebook and wrote a scene or two long hand. I wrote in waiting rooms, doctors offices, red lights… wherever I could.”—Elizabeth Kostova, About.com interview
i’ve been thinking a lot about the stars. about supernovas and galaxies. about infinity ever expending. bigger and bigger and bigger.
what does the universe swallow to grow so big?
maybe it swallows worlds and spits them back out all shiny and new while the stars watches, their dust covering planets dancing with each other.
waltzing waltzing waltzing (little planet with little planet. twist twist turn. turn jump. and bow)
and when somebody makes a wish thousands of mouths take a breath.
and when the universe blinks galaxies collide. it is so dark when the lights go out.
i feel really small when i think of it
(like the little planet hiding in the corner too scared to take part in the dance).
but i feel brave too
my feet are hurting and my knees are scraped, but i’ll keep on spilling and spilling in the milky way
and if you swallow me, i’ll be star dust
i’ll be the glitter that shines in the dark
and who would dance with me when the music stops?