I wanted to connect a modern story with a myth that I had read.
Religion's just a well-oiled profit-driven denial of the randomness of it all.
But what are our stories if not the mirrors we hold up to our fears?
I need to get lost and sometimes my characters lead me to places I don't expect to go.
But I think this: that whatever prices I've paid, whatever sorrows I shoulder, well, I have blessings, too. Not just my family now, but the others-the ones who have died...They're with me still. They're here...
I thought about how love was always the thing that did that - smashed into you, left you raw. The deeper you loved, the deeper it hurt.