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Writing is a kind of beautiful madness.
Dramatic hair decisions were rarely without catalyst, and I couldn’t help but wonder what hers had been.
Creating written worlds ex nihilo—from nothing—is the closest we get to the divine.
Perhaps, in writing, we are divine.
what if the page wasn’t the only place we cou...
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“Sometimes the art of fiction isn’t in how intellectual it is, but how well it makes you actually forget the world around you.
Sometimes, binge reading to escape reality can save a person’s life.”
“You can be the greatest peach, and someone will still be offended by peaches,”
“Impostor syndrome’s normal.
refusing to tell a story that’s in you is just asking for your head to burst, after all, the yolk of Story dribbling out of the cracks.
Humans aren’t made to carry the weight of our sins.
low blood sugar never made for sprightly company.
“A decapitation a day keeps the family away,”
“Sometimes wounds become scars, not because they’ve healed, but because they’re hiding what’s underneath from ourselves.”
Funny how you can want something so badly, but it’s only when you get it that you realize it wasn’t what you wanted at all.
Footsteps pattered away down the corridor, short and light like a child’s. How very terrifying.
“I think in everyone’s life,” I started slowly, “you get an event that cuts everything in two. Like an axe splitting wood. And there becomes a before and an after.”
“A who I was and a who I became,”
Her mouth grazed mine, more warmth than touch.
A terrifying tale well done will scour the darkest corners of your mind and soul, give form and voice to your greatest fears.
You must let the beast free before you can hunt it down.
Better the monster than the maiden to be devoured.
