Or, in truth, eventually, though I still noticed, the callouses on my spirit prevented wounds (p.75).

Summer comes over the hill like a hairy blanket.

Writing isn't just on the page; it's voices in the reader's head. Read what you write out loud to someone-anyone-and you will catch all kinds of things.

Secrets could never be rushed. They had to come of their own accord, on their own schedule. That way ,when they came , the offered themselves as a gift.

You have to live life if you're going to create believable lives on paper.

Unfortunately, we're using the same language to talk about the language we'retalking about.

Some affixes are wildly promiscuous.