What I was trying to do in the beginning was to write from a multiple point of view. A multiple point of view, after some little old lady had died, a group of people gather at the home of — someone’s home — and after a funeral, they’d gather there for a repast, to eat and to talk and whatever, drink and whatever. And so I’d thought I would write a novel like that, because I had heard the old people who used to visit my aunt, because my aunt could not travel. They used to come there, and they used to talk all the time. They’d talk out on the porch during the day — or if it’s cold, around the fireplace at night — they were always talking, and I knew they talked about all kinds of things. They talked about what they had heard — knew — about slavery, vicariously, of course. About religion or politics. They were always talking.