I have four or five ideas that just keep floating around and I want to kind of just let one - like a beautiful butterfly, let it land somewhere.

Most beautiful, good things were done by women people scorn.

There are no really new stories anymore.

There are a million talented writers who are unpublished only because they stop writing when it gets hard.

I've suffered betrayal with all five senses. For over a year.

There's a difference between really loving someone and loving the idea of her.

I'm a huge fan of ghost stories, that sort of slow build, the suspense and the questioning about whether you're imagining something or if it's real.