Try to think of writing as a gift - more complexly put: it is the curse and the cure.

I'm about to start something new. I'm waiting to be whelmed. The whelming as you start something new is quite something.

I am politically pro-choice, but personally pro-life. I have my faith but refuse to force it on the world at large - especially this world, so brutal and unjust. I cannot make these wrenching personal life and death decisions for others - nor do I believe they should be made by a church run by childless men.

And I know I'm supposed to feel guilty for wanting people to buy my books... and books in general? Novels and poetry, they belong to the realm of art. How dirty of us to try to hawk art! But, after a decade of hand-wringing and apologies, I can't quite muster the guilt anymore.

Basically if you burst into my office the walls themselves will flutter as if alive - maybe that's the reason for all the wings in 'Pure.

Sometimes you meet someone and you know that your life will be different from then on.

Writing across genres has made me more prolific. When one is fighting me or simply not cutting it, I turn to another.