Losing a parent over eight years is a very dark journey. I spent the first four years feeling bad and angry and sorry for myself.

When I was in my early twenties, my mom started repeating things, asking the same questions, telling the same stories. It was like, Oh, God, this is not right. When I was 25, my brother and I finally told our dad we had to take her to the doctor.

That's the funny thing about life. We're rarely aware of the bullets we dodge. The just-misses. The almost-never-happeneds. We spend so much time worrying about how the future is going to play out and not nearly enough time admiring the precious perfection of the present.

Writing is such a weird emotional thing. It's hard. If you sit down with a plan to write something, it's going to be harder.

Losing a parent over eight years is a very dark journey. I spent the first four years feeling bad and angry and sorry for myself.

I'm feeling pretty fortunate. I've been having lots of lovely auditions and meetings, so I'm savoring the moment.

Every constellation’s like its own fairy tale.