I love you, I thought. But I didn't say it. It was not that I feared she would laugh in my face. She was far too kind for that. My fear was a greater one - that she won't say it back.
What happened to romance? Sappy, soppy longhand love letters.
This isn't a fairy tale. It's New York City.
A beautiful thing is precious no matter the price
Good to know: Doctors can't cure you of being a beast.
Each of my books took roughly one and a half years to write. Some may have taken a shorter time to write the draft and a longer time to revise, while others were the opposite.