Tabitha

I reminded him of a story from an ancient Chinese Zen master, of the Buddha coming upon some people who had just been robbed while picnicking. They were racing around, enraged, asking him to help them. But Buddha asks, “Who would you rather find, the burglars or yourself?”

Tim nodded, and then said, “The burglars.”

“Same.”

— Anne Lamott, Somehow

“If one cannot make a living at writing, then writing is freed from the responsibility of supporting us. We choose to do it anyway.”

Dear Writer by Maggie Smith, pp. 5.

Who are our debtors, literal or figurative, and what do they owe us? Most of us could probably come up with a list. The verse makes us God’s debtors. What do we owe Him? Everything. More than we can conceive of. But a debt is an obligation. The prophets make it clear that sacrifice does not satisfy the Lord’s requirement of us. Doing justice and

“I don’t believe in proofs of God. Proofs are human things based in the logic of materiality. But it seems to me what we know as beauty must be the expression of God’s very nature. Unlike the arts we make, which are always open to interpretation, this sort of loveliness is purified of anything like thought. It is what it is—and isn’t that the name

“Connecting with the right reader really does happen. When the right piece meets the right person, a light flicks on. We are all working hard to find a moment when the page suddenly illuminates. What can you do to give that moment to editors? How can you light up their day, their hour, with writing that feels as if it were written especially for