For me it was really important to get the essence out of the music for the story and not, sort of, press the music into the service of the whimsical telling of it.

There's always two sides to every story. We'll be telling our side soon.

I usually hate going around and doing press. It sort of stresses me out.

Her silent singing wrapped around the story she was telling herself, which she extended further every night on the deck. (Averill often told herself stories-- the activity seemed to her as unavoidable as dreaming.) Her singing was a barrier set between the world in her head and the world outside, between her body and the onslaught of the stars.

For seldom shall she hear a tale So said, so tender, yet so true.

I cannot tell how the truth may be; I say the tale as 'twas said to me.