Is it still there?" I asked, staring at his head, bent over, as he wedged the stethoscope beneath my left breast. And then, before I could stop myself, "Does it sound broken?

Having a day job again I found really kind of fueled my fiction, because it became almost this forbidden thing where I had to sneak off and do it in private.

There are a lot of women like me in the world, and we rarely get to see ourselves.

You should be concerned about the state of your soul, not the state of your bank account.

If you write thrillers or mysteries or horror fiction or quote-unquote speculative fiction, men might read you, and the 'Times' might notice you.

He loved me. He loved me, but he doesn't love me anymore, and it's not the end of the world.

I'd love to spend a day being supermodel beautiful.