The blog is certainly another tool for writers out there to break their way in. But being a blogger does not make you a great writer.

Doors are going to open-doors you can't even imagine exist.

The road to hell is paved with leeks and potatoes

Two years ago, I was a twenty-nine year old secretary. Now I am a thirty-one year old writer. I get paid very well to sit around in my pajamas and type on my ridiculously fancy iMac, unless I'd rather take a nap. Feel free to hate me -- I certainly would.

Maybe I needed to make like a potato, winnow myself down, be part of something that was not easy, just simple.

People want to care about people. People look after each other, given the chance. ... I believe just believing in goodness generates a tiny bit of the stuff, so that being so foolish as to believe in our better natures, if just for a day, we actually contribute to the sum total of generosity in the universe.

So the end may be a long time coming, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have a way of sneaking up on you.