You can't be real," Delilah murmurs. "Says who?" I ask. "Did you really think that a story exists only when you're reading it?

There is a gulf as wide as an ocean between should and want, and I am drowning in it.

He is dark and quiet and completely different from me, which is exactly why I should put distance between us. But it is also the reason I find him so fascinating.

Sometimes there aren't words. The silence between us is flung wide as an ocean. But I manage to reach across it, to wrap my arms around him.

But sometimes, in order to win, you have to make sacrifices.

I don't have to live the lives of my characters to write about them. It's about really putting yourself in their shoes.

words are like nets - we hope they'll cover what we mean, but we know they can't possibly hold that much joy, or grief, or wonder.