Sometimes A Question Can Hurt More Than

I Knew, In The Silence That Followed, That Anything Could Happen Here. It Might Be Too Late: Again, I Might Have Missed My Chance. But I Would At Least Know I Tried, That I Took My Heart And Extended My Hand, Whatever The Outcome. "okay," He Said. He Took A Breath. "what Would You Do, If You Could Do Anything?" I Took A Step Toward Him, Closing The Space Between Us. "this," I Said. And Then I Kissed Him.

I Have So Many Books I Didn't Sell. Some My Agent Rejected Outright, Others Made It All The Way To My Editor To Be Turned Away. Not Everything Is A Winner, Which Is Tough When You've Devoted Eight Or Nine Months Of Your Life To Something.

This Was How I Was Dealing With Everyone And Everything Lately, Taking The Good When It Came, And The Bad The Same Way, Knowing Each Would Pass In Its Own Time.

He's Getting Dumped. And He Doesn't Even Know It Yet. He's Probably Eating A Cheeseburger Or Flossing Or Picking Up His Dry Cleaning, And He Has No Idea. No Inkling.

Even If You Do Make Tons Of New Friends,” I Told Him, “try Not To Forget Where You Came From, Okay?