I try to write every day until the book is done, but the exact process depends on the story and its structure. Sometimes, if the story is more linear, I write it from beginning to end.

In the distance, he could see Molly lying in the tall grass off to the side of the house.

I lost you once, I think I can do it again.

Do you ever sit back and wonder what it all means? Whether this is it or if there's something greater out there? Or if you were meant for something better?

Life passes by now like the scenery outside a car window. I breathe and eat and sleep as I always did, but there seems to be no great purpose in my life that requires active participation on my part...I do not know where I am going or when I will get there.

The secret is to know how to lie" he used to say, " and to know when someone's lying to you". His father, Steve eventually decided, must have known how to lie.

He put his arms around her. “Well, in my defense, then, whatever I did seemed to work, didn't it?” She sighed. “I suppose.” “You suppose?” “What do you want? A medal?” “For starters. A trophy would be nice, too.” She smiled. “What do you think you're holding right now?