It's only a little secret, but having a secret makes me feel better. Like a human being again.

If I kept saying it; if I kept reaching out. My accident really taught me just one thing: the only way to go on is to go on. To say 'I can do this' even when you know you can't.

When I was a kid I believed everything I was told, everything I read, and every dispatch sent out by my own overheated imagination. This made for more than a few sleepless nights, but it also filled the world I lived in with colors and textures I would not have traded for a lifetime of restful nights.

I believe that the combination of pencil and memory creates a kind of practical magic, and magic is dangerous.

The first draft of a book—even a long one—should take no more than three months, the length of a season.

Outside, a gusty October breeze was combing leaves from the trees and sending them across her backyard in colorful skitters.

I can see your dirtypillows.