Donna Tartt

The grind never stops — nor, it seems, does the presence of school in the products of collective societal perception. 

Each of these four books practically insist on being read by the fire with a mug of hot chocolate and a flannel blanket.

And before the end product, when I’m writing my own fiction, I fear having my writing being read into too much.

Stuck between Oscar bait and pre-existing intellectual property turned into a box office hit, “The Goldfinch” is in an odd position of trying to satisfy both genres.