Some truths are expressed best in the form of myth.

Every snapshot collector has obsessions. Some only collect photos of cars. Others like World War II, or babies, or old-timey girls in old-timey swimsuits. I happen to collect the weird stuff: photos that make the hair on the back of your neck stand up a little. The uncanny.

I had been writing since I was pretty small, and I've always been telling these stories about doors and finding other worlds within our own.

When someone won't let you in, eventually you stop knocking.

Whenever I try to map things out they inevitably change. Which doesn't mean I don't map them out — I just try to embrace the better ideas that come along as my fingers are flying around the keyboard mid-draft!

Strange, I thought, how you can be living your dreams and your nightmares at the very same time.

I was here for a reason. There was something I was meant not simply to be, but to do- and it wasn't to run or hide or give up the minute things seemed terrifying and impossible.