Janet Fitch
Janet Fitch
Janet Fitch is most famously known as the author of the Oprah's Book Club novel White Oleander, which became a film in 2002. She is a graduate of Reed College, located in Portland, Oregon...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionAuthor
Date of Birth9 November 1955
CountryUnited States of America
inventive pound work
For me, I'd rather be the inventive one, and if something doesn't work, I'll go back to the workshop, put it on the bench, and pound on it for awhile.
recreation solitary
My mother had been a solitary chef. It was her recreation and her escape.
bit dark hard music
I was into the music scene, but I was also a bit of a perfectionist and very hard on myself... very dark in that way.
time whether
I write all the time, whether I feel like it or not. I never get inspired unless I'm already writing.
time
Dostoevsky was my literary idol for a long time.
chili hunt jar powder preferred purchasing rather wildly
My mother was an enthusiastic chef but wildly disorganized, and often preferred purchasing yet another jar of mace or chili powder rather than having to hunt down its last incarnation.
depths naked public
It's your flaws, not your strengths, that go down in the depths of your books. You're exposed, like dreaming you're naked in a public building.
sending
I kept sending out stories and getting rejected.
achieved exercise paragraph substitute terrific using
A terrific exercise is to take a paragraph of someone's writing who has a really strong style, and using their structure, substitute your own words for theirs, and see how they achieved their effects.
liability persons
It's such a liability to love another person.
touch-someone fingers
Find someone who will tremble for your touch, someone whose fingers are a poem.
lost-ones oysters white
The pearls weren't really white, they were a warm oyster beige, with little knots in between so if they broke, you only lost one. I wished my life could be like that, knotted up so that even if something broke, the whole thing wouldn't come apart.
survival suffering care
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.
ivory tables pages
I took the volume to a table, opened its soft, ivory pages... and fell into it as into a pool during dry season.