Maybe this is not a come-down-from-the-ledge story. But I tell it with the thought that the woman on the ledge will ask herself a question, the question that occurred to that man in Bogota. He wondered how we know that… — Amy Hempel Copy Share Image
Since his mother died I have seen him steam a cucumber thinking it was zucchini. That's the kind of thing that turns my heart… — Amy Hempel Copy Share Image
“A story happens when two equally appealing forces, or characters, or ideas try to occupy the same place at the same time, and they're… — Amy Hempel Copy Share Image
“It is such a pretty story, told to me by a Cuban woman I met in a bar at the beach. She left the… — Amy Hempel Copy Share Image
Journalism taught me how to write a sentence that would make someone want to read the next one. You are trained to get rid… — Amy Hempel Copy Share Image
I had a mother I could only seem to please with verbal accomplishments of some sort or another. She read constantly, so I read… — Amy Hempel Copy Share Image
“Mrs. Linden was beautiful in spirit and in fact. Her wish, she told her daughter, was to be a beautiful woman and surprise people… — Amy Hempel Copy Share Image
Then the children went to bed, or at least went upstairs, and the men joined the women for a cigarette on the porch, absently… — Amy Hempel Copy Share Image
“It comes back to the question, whom are you writing for? Who are the readers you want? Who are the people you want to… — Amy Hempel Copy Share Image
There’s so much I can’t read because I get so exasperated. Someone starts describing the character boarding the plane and pulling the seat back.… — Amy Hempel Copy Share Image
The year I began to say vahz instead of vase, a man I barely knew nearly accidentally killed me. — Amy Hempel Copy Share Image
