Sometimes it is the circumstances thrust upon on us to that compel us to grow.
Read MoreShadows may come in a variety of sizes and shapes, but they all share the same impermanence.
Read MoreAll you know about your readers is that they’re human.
Read MoreI was amazed how magically unknowable I’d made music composition.
Read MoreI understood how hard it was to see that she had helped him, tainted as this help seemed by rejection.
Read MoreWho could have predicted that this simple transference from thought to page would have the power to summon the same host of woes as the front page of any newspaper?
Read MoreI don’t feel like I really know something until I’ve written it, until I can share it.
Read MoreI sometimes feel as if my entire writing life has been one long practice in learning the difference between the one voice and the other.
Read MoreThe end of the world, the end of love, the end of joy, the end of all that is good is never quite as close as we sometimes believe.
Read MoreThere has always been a part of me who does not participate in all my plan-making.
Read MoreArtists have to learn to forget about their numbers, forget about the reviews and the rankings, and just do their work.
Read MoreA true ghost town is an abandoned idea, a location that can no longer serve the people who would live there.
Read MoreIt wasn’t so much the writing as how I felt when I wrote.
Read MoreNo matter how many times I’ve told a story before I write it, I always leave room within my writer’s imagination for something new about this story or idea to come.
Read MoreI’m going to create something with every single person I meet, even if we exchange nothing more than a hello.
Read MoreOnce I’m done with an essay or story, what someone thinks of my stuff is ultimately none of my business.
Read MoreI had always hated and feared this story, but I decided on the day I told it to Eric to make it a funny story.
Read MoreAll a story can do is point to something the reader or the audience may have forgotten or disregarded.
Read MoreFor one moment, there is a surprising emptiness in me, as if I’m closing the door for the last time on my childhood home.
Read MoreLike most people, I have spent ninety-nine percent of my time looking out of my face, not at my face.
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