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“A glorious love story that spans centuries, worlds, and souls… Enchanting and extraordinary”

—Chicago Daily Herald

Part One

1

New York City

1994

You can’t be happy in this life because of what happened in your past lives

What would you think if someone said that to you? You’d think, “It’s hopeless, why bother trying” Right? Or would you think, “The woet oods out of here?”

Or would you be like me and think, “A story! Everyone’s into ti past lives, so maybe I can ask a lot of questions and make a story from this lady’s answers”

This last is what I thought when I first met Nora because I am a writer inside and out There isn’t one eared toward, How can I use this in a story?

People are always asking me how I came to be a writer I’d like to have an answer that would please theh a meadow full of tiny blue flohen a beautiful woman in a silver dress appeared and bopped olden voice and said, “I a Go forth and write”

Sometimes I think that people want to hear that I was “chosen,” rather like a prophet But you knohenever you read about prophets, they always cry to God, “Oh Lord, why ift, it’s a curse

At any rate, I have just told you why I beca Absolutely everything on earth I see so, anda story

Storytelling is natural to me When people ask me how I came to be a writer, what I want to ask in return is, What is in your head in place of stories? What do you think about while listening to a ter the sixth load of wash in the machine? To me, this is the real mystery of life I already knohat’s inside my head, but what is inside other people’s heads if not stories?

Well, anyway, now that I aed writer (that means I need no outside job to pay the bills) I find that riters have a little club that we’re all supposed to be loyal to The Hippocratic oath is nothing compared to this

Since I don’t want to losemembership, I’ll say what I’ What is that thing so your blood onto the paper? Well, it’s true Writing is really, really hard work By golly, I bet I sit onabout “what happens next” I have a publishing house that sends me flowers and money every time I turn in a book

Now, really, does it sound like a writer suffers more than, say, a secretary? She has to be awakened by an alaret the kids and hubby off, work for a boss who never praises her, then do another shift of hen she gets home And no one ever says, “Wow, you’re a secretary How did you get to be one?”

I guess we all do whatever we can If you can drive a truck, you do that If you can hassle people without conscience, you become a lawyer If you have stories in your head you write the a writer isn’t any different—and not nearly as important—as ree with e has decided that writers are shtened, more whatever than other people, so they treat them with awe and reverence