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
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.
darkness layers feels
Whenever she thought she could not feel more alone, the universe peeled back another layer of darkness.
dark smell female
I emitted some civetlike female stink, a distinct perfume of sexual wanting, that he had followed to find me here in the dark.
dark voice people
This involves more than I can discuss here, but do it. Read the writers of great prose dialogue-people like Robert Stone and Joan Didion. Compression, saying as little as possible, making everything carry much more than is actually said. Conflict. Dialogue as part of an ongoing world, not just voices in a dark room. Never say the obvious. Skip the meet and greet.
believe self darkness
Darkness coiled between what he wanted them to believe and the self he despised. It only made him more alone. How could you save someone when he didn't let you kno him? What a waste. The beauty he murdered in this place. He could never see what he had, only what he failed to achieve.
dark thinking soul
She should think about her own soul, what she was going to do with this funky tattered pond dank item. Dark and stained, a ruined thing.
water darkness dawn
Dawn tinted the darkness like water ink.
eye dark dancer
I closed my eyes to watch tiny dancers like jeweled birds cross the dark screen of my eyelids.
eye dark boys
When most people looked at Josie Tyrell, they only saw a certain collection of bones, a selection of forms filling space. But Michael saw past the mouth and the eyes, the architecture of the body, her fleshly masquerade. Other boys were happy enough to enjoy the show, they just wanted to be entertained in the body's shadow theater. But Michael had to come backstage. He went down into the mines, into the dark, and brought up the gold, your new self, a better self. But what good was it if he was just going to leave her behind?
dark world dark-world
here, here is my dark world. you carry it for a change. im out
angel baking cakes food gadget grilling heart loaf met tube
My mother never met a gadget she didn't like. There were tube pans for baking the angel food cakes my father could have after his first heart attack, and Bundt pans and loaf pans and baking pans and grilling pans.
recreation solitary
My mother had been a solitary chef. It was her recreation and her escape.
good unless
I write every day... I never get ideas unless I'm actually writing. Ideas I get in the shower don't do me any good.
family including pay wondering
I write every day, including weekends. For writers, there are no weekends. It's just that your family is around, looking mournful, wondering when you're going to pay attention to them.