I once had a story editor ask me not to use the word 'placenta.' I wanted to say: 'Now tell me again how you got here?' Oh, right, an angel of God placed you into the bill of the stork. — Jill McCorkle Copy Share Image
One day, when my son was eight, he came into the kitchen while I was cooking and said: 'You put bad words in your books, don't you?' No doubt he had overheard my mother, who often tells people who ask… — Jill McCorkle Copy Share Image
“She tried to teach her children to be positive--to dream but to also do it with their feet on the ground. If you let… — Jill McCorkle Copy Share Image
I feel very protective in the first draft, when all the pieces are coming together. I work in a way that is not linear… — Jill McCorkle Copy Share Image
I thought that we were all like trees, flexible youths, saplings, who grow up heavy and stiff, spread seeds and get chopped down and… — Jill McCorkle Copy Share Image
“We used to all come outside when the streetlights came on and prowl the neighborhood in a pack, a herd of kids on banana-seat… — Jill McCorkle Copy Share Image
“...he was convinced that if he claimed all the parts he really loved he would be able to make peace with everything else.” — Jill McCorkle Copy Share Image
For me, a happy ending is not everything works out just right and there is a big bow, it's more coming to a place… — Jill McCorkle Copy Share Image
“When she doesn’t want to think about something sad or hurtful, she does what she instructed her own children and those she taught to… — Jill McCorkle Copy Share Image
The silver friend knows your present and the gold friend knows all of your past dirt and glories. Once in a blue moon there… — Jill McCorkle Copy Share Image
“It was 1965 and life seemed easier. Her parents were alive and so was her brother, her bones were hard and strong and her… — Jill McCorkle Copy Share Image
The first draft is all about freedom, and if loyalty is in question, it is only my loyalty to the characters and situations on… — Jill McCorkle Copy Share Image
My joy as a writer is circling around and around and down and down to find out who the real person is. — Jill McCorkle Copy Share Image
I was with my dad 20 years ago as he was dying. I was there at the moment of his death, and I kept… — Jill McCorkle Copy Share Image
