The rules are very strict.

I don't feel like writing any more ghost stories.

I never thought that people my own age could die, let alone be murdered. Things like that didn't happen in 1955. The suburbs were a safe place, where nobody even locked their doors.

Odd, isn't it? You know when your birthday is, but not your death day, even though you pass the date year after year, never suspecting that some day.

I think more people now have relationships with agents than with editors. And I don't have an agent.

I was a coward. I'm still such a coward.

They always talk about teenagers thinking their lives will never end. I expected my life to end at any minute, every day.