To the guy in my creative writing class at George Mason University who told me everything I wrote was cliché—I still remember your expression as you looked down at my stories in front of you, trying to get a laugh out of the other literary writers, poking fun at the romance genre. Words have power, but sometimes insults become stepping stones. Without meaning to, you forced me to fight harder to elevate myself. The memory of you is a constant reminder to use my words to lift others, not tear them down. So, thanks.
