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she’s not as pretty as you,” I said “But she’s a simpler girl,” my mother whispered.

Janet Fitch

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Janet Fitch
Age: 68
Born: 1955
Born: November 9
Author
Journalist
Novelist
University Teacher
Writer
LA
California
Janet Elizabeth Fitch
Whispered
Pretty
Girl
Mother
Simpler

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When I read, I want to be fully transported to another place. I want to feel things, smell things.
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We read so that we can be moved by a new way of looking at things.
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echo, the death of a sound that had nowhere to go but to come back.
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How easy I was. Like a limpet I attached myself to anything, anyone who showed me the least attention.
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Girls were born knowing how destructive the truth could be. They learned to hold it in, tamp it down, like gunpowder in an old fashioned gun. Then it exploded in your face on a November day in the rain.
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I emitted some civetlike female stink, a distinct perfume of sexual wanting, that he had followed to find me here in the dark.
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Her hatred glittered irresistibly. I could see it, the jewel, it was sapphire, it was the cold lakes of Norway.
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Always learn poems by heart. They have to become the marrow in your bones. Like fluoride in the water, they'll make your soul impervious to the world's soft decay.
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I felt suddenly cruel, like I´d told dmall children there was no tooth fairy, that it was just their Mom sneaking into their room after they went to bed.
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I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, men who made you love them then changed their minds.
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This is what happens when you fall in love. You're looking at a natural disaster.
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I use my fiction to explore my own unconscious issues. I usually don't even know what's going on with me until I'm writing.
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How vast was a human being's capacity for suffering. The only thing you could do was stand in awe of it. It wasn't a question of survival at all. It was the fullness of it, how much could you hold, how much could you care.
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Let me tell you a few things about regret...There is no end to it. You cannot find the beginning of the chain that brought us from there to here. Should you regret the whole chain, and the air in between, or each link separately as if you could uncouple them? Do you regret the beginning which ended so badly, or just the ending itself?
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The story of her life. God gave you everything just to take it away. Just so you knew exactly what you were missing.
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I closed my eyes to watch tiny dancers like jeweled birds cross the dark screen of my eyelids.
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She laughed so easily when she was happy. But also when she was sad.
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The word rattled in my head like rocks in an oatmeal box.
Janet Fitch
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I felt like time was a great sea, and I was floating on the back of a turtle, and no sails broke the horizon.
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Whenever she thought she could not feel more alone, the universe peeled back another layer of darkness.
Janet Fitch