I guess I don’t think of work as evolving. I think of writers as sitting down and starting from scratch every time—at least that is how it is for me. I don’t think of one book as having any relationship to the others. The books are not canvasses upon which I attempt to develop my voice, grow my themes, or evolve my concerns. They are not early or later drafts of one another. They are not in conversation with one another. They have no awareness of the others’ existence. They are merely narrative objects that I’ve worked hard on in order that they be the best (most interesting, most true, most beautiful, etcetera) I was then capable of. In retrospect, I could describe each book, but such a description would not constitute a description of an evolution, or a picture of a process, or the naming of a journey, not really. Writing is too disorderly for that—or at least mine is. I don’t mean to hide behind the mysteriousness of the creative act—although it certainly is mysterious, more afterwards than at the time—but I don’t think of the books as a deliberate attempt (by me) to form a body of work that can then be stepped back from and discussed (at least by me). That would be far too overdetermined.

LORRIE MOORE