So basically your plan is to flail about helplessly.

I try to stress to my children that buying something never leads to true happiness.

The actual writing time is a lot shorter than the thinking time.

I love to make even villains people you can relate to. When you find out who did it, I think you almost like the person, which is not easy to do.

Kids don’t do what their parents say-they do what they see their parents do. So who was to blame here?

..."better to have loved and lost" bullshit. Don't show me paradise and then burn it down.

No, I don’t live in heartache. I don’t cry myself to sleep or any of that. I am, I tell myself, over it. But I do feel a void, icky as that sounds. And—like it or not—I still think about her every single day.