It is quite a thing. There are so many men, all endlessly trying to sweep me off my feet. And there is one of you, trying just the opposite. Making sure my feet are firm beneath me lest I fall.

It wasn't even a good note. 'If you are reading this I am probably dead.' What sort of a note is that?

But it isn’t a rough draft either. The one I turned in several months ago was rough. There were some bad plot holes, some logical inconsistencies, pacing problems, and not nearly enough lesbian unicorns.

I learned to love the feel of good words.

I needed to let them know they couldn't hurt me. I've learned that the best way to stay safe is to make your enemies think you can't be hurt.

If there is one thing I will not abide it is the folly of a willful pride.

I've always liked the moonless night best. It's easier to say things in the dark. It's easier to be yourself.