“Those who rhapsodize about the ease and joy of childhood have perhaps forgotten …” — Joyce Maynard

I had known there had been a serial killer on Mount Tamalpais, and it felt so incongruous in such a beautiful, peaceful spot.

Long after Salinger sent me away, I continued to believe his standards and expectations were the best ones.

The vehemence with which certain critics have chosen not simply to criticize what I've written, but to challenge my writing this story at all, speaks of what the book is about: fear of disapproval.

Not only did I avoid speaking of Salinger; I resisted thinking about him. I did not reread his letters to me. The experience had been too painful.