As If It Didnt Matter What Was

I Think Readers Are Just Looking For Things That Maybe They Recognize Or Can Relate To In The Books.

I Thought Of All The Times We'd Been Together, How I Kept Coming Closer, Then Retreating, While He Stayed Right Where He Was. A Constant In A World Where Few, If Any, Really Existed.

Still, There Was Also Was Something Reassuring About Working For Commercial, Almost Hopeful. Like Things That Were Lost Could Be Found Again. As We Drove Away, I Always Tried To Imagine What It Would Be Like To Open Your Door To Find Something You Had Given Up On.

Usually When I Finish The Draft Of A Book, I'm Sure I'll Never Write Another One. I'm Just That Tired And Sick Of Myself. But Then Another Idea Starts Percolating. It Usually Begins With The Narrator's Name, Then Some Idea That Intrigues Me About Her Life Or Situation. I Try To Ignore It As Long As I Can, Because I Know When I Start Writing, I'll Be Right Back Into It, Every Single Day. But Eventually, I Just Have To. It's A Compulsion!

Fall In Love With Someone Who Truly Deserves Your Heart. Not With Someone Who Plays With It.