Expect the unexpected, my mother once said. Because the unexpected most certainly will be expecting you.

He was a hot, hot former priest and she wanted to pull a Thorn Birds on his ass.

All of us change. Everyone in this world, from birth to death, becomes someone new. Again and again, we are remade.

I am vulnerable, starved for kindness. And when I receive it, I lose my mind.

I've been going to San Diego's Comic-Con every year since 2007 or 2008. The first time I went it was an overwhelming experience because I wasn't expecting all the people; I wasn't even expecting all the joy. I came from a background where, when I was about eighteen or nineteen, I found comic-book fandom. But it was the fandom of online communities. And within those communities there was a tremendous amount of excitement and joy, but I'd never been around people in such a large group setting where this joy was pouring out of them. It was a revelation.

I started out writing romance novels, and that's a side of publishing that's very female oriented. 99.9% of the writers are women, most of the editors are women, and these are books written for the female gaze. And so my point of view - the way I looked at fandom and publishing and writing - was all about women. So for me that's what was natural, that's what was comfortable. And then I moved over to comics. And all of a sudden it was... Pardon the expression, it was a sausage fest.

In real life, I knew that fandom was made up of women, and women of color, and women of all ages. But on the publishing side of comics, it was a lot of white, straight men. It was often jarring to me to be the only women at a meeting or at a panel at a comic-con. Fortunately I had mentors who were not blinded by my gender and who said, "Yes, we know you can write these books." That hasn't been the case for everyone. What gives me great hope is that in the eight to nine years since I've started, I've seen tremendous growth.