And okay, fair enough, but there is this unwritten contract between author and reader and I think not ending your book kind of violates that contract.

depression is not a side effect of cancer. Depression is a side effect of dying.

And yes, again, that was it exactly. A retyper and not a writer. A prodigy and not a genius.

That's how writing works, at least for me: even the stuff that doesn't work out gets funneled into the stuff that does work out.

And I wanted to tell her that the pleasure for me wasn't planning or doing or leaving; the pleasure was in seeing our strings cross and separate and then come back together.

The truth hurts because it's real. It hurts because it mattered. And that's an important thing to acknowledge to yourself.

Worry is yet another side effect of dying.