Who am I? And how, I wonder, will this story end?

All characters come from people I know, but after the initial inspiration, I tend to modify the characters so they fit with the story.

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?

People want pretty much the same things: They wanted to be happy. Most young people seemed to think that those things lay somewhere in the future, while most older people believed they lay in the past.

How had I become middle-aged while the ravages of time ignored her? I didn't know and didn't care, and before I could stop them, the words were already out. "You're beautiful," I murmured.

She'd preferred the uncertainty, if only because it allowed her to remember him the way he used to be. Sometimes, though, she wondered what he felt when he thought of that year they spent together, or if he ever marveled at what they'd shared, or even whether he thought of her at all.

There's always pressure, a great deal of pressure, when writing, since my first books were so successful.