celebrate while you can

When a marriage ends, who is left to understand it?

Literature, art, like civilization itself, are only accidents.

My first love was reading, which inspired me to write.

A mouth of no distinction but well practiced, before I entered my teens, in irony. For what is irony but the repository of hurt? And what is hurt but the repository of hope?

My writing is often a way of 'bearing witness' for others who lack the education and the opportunity to tell their own stories, so I hope that my writing won't be affected too much by my personal life.

Truths are the last thing you learn about your family. By the time you learn, you're no longer their child.