The abiding mystery of fiction to me is that its maker is
often as much in the dark about it as anyone. She writes to investigate, to
follow a question. By being as scrupulously true to her perception of the human
event as she can—by allowing it to open in her hand, if you
will—she offers it into a kind of dimensionalizing amber. To borrow from
Katherine Anne Porter, a story comes from "my own moral and emotional
collision with a human situation."