It Scares Me. But Then I Get

I Feel In Some Ways I've Had A Difficult Life. And It Makes Me The Kind Of Writer I Am, In What I Value, What I Respect, What I Hold Dear.

It Scares Me How Fast I Go From Disliking To Loving Him, And I Wonder If It’s This Way For Everyone.

I Don't Have Any Real Goals Except To Follow One Good Sentence With Another... I'm Not The Kind Of Writer Who Has A Map.

I Felt I Couldn't Lose Anything Else, But Just Then I Realized I Already Had: I'd Lost The Hope That I Would Ever Be Loved In Just That Way Again.

Before College, I Hadn't Voluntarily Read Anything That Might Be Called Literature; I Didn't Think I'd Understand It; I Never Seemed To Understand My English Teacher's Interpretations Of What We Read.