This is the sorcery of literature. We are healed by our stories.

I remember as a child, my grandmother read to me Silent Spring. It was incomprehensible to me that there could be a world without birdsong.

There is an art to writing, and it is not always disclosure. The act itself can be beautiful, revelatory, and private.

Hope is not attached to outcomes but is a state of mind.

The Eyes of the Future are looking back at us and they are praying for us to see beyond our own time.

Stories have the power to create social change and inspire community.

I think my heart breaks daily living in Salt Lake City, Utah. But I still love it. And that is the richness, the texture.