I'm no longer willing to let myself down.

Everyone tells you to write what you know. It’s the tried-and-true advice every writer hears at some point in her career. But to take my writing to a deeper level, I’ve found that a better practice is to simply write what frightens you, haunts you, even. I now keep a sign on the bulletin board in my office that reads: 'Write What Scares You.' I’ve learned that tapping into the hard stuff — whether it’s the fear of loss or a boogeyman lurking in childhood memories — is what ultimately gives a story the power to leap off the page and grab you by the collar.

You know, things fall apart. You grieve. And then you sit around and wait for things to somehow get perfect again. But they don’t. They never can. There is no perfect. There’s just different. But different can be wonderful.

All I hear is my own grating thoughts. Is there anything more horrid than being trapped inside yourself with nothing but your own insecurities.

Great love endures time, heartache, and distance. And even when all seems lost, true love lives on.

What is childhood without stories? And how will children fall in love with stories without bookstores? You can't get that from a computer.

Marriage, my dear, is not suicide.