There are women succeeding beyond their wildest dreams because of their sobriety.
I stayed there, curled up into the warmth of your body, under the blankets, like something soft in a shell. Your arms were firm as rock around me.
And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them.
Lets face it, you did steal me. But you saved my life too. And somewhere in the middle, you showed me a place so different and beautiful, I can never get it out of my mind. And I can't get you out of there either. You're stuck in my brain like my own blood vessels.
Right at that moment it was as if we were the only two people left in the world. And I don't mean that to sound corny; it just honestly did. The only sounds were the droning crickets and chip-chips of the bats, the farawy wind against the sand, and the occasional distant yowl of a dingo. There were no car horns. No trains. No jack-hammers. No lawnmowers No planes. No sirens. No alarms. No anything human. If you'd told me that you'd saved me from a nuclear holocaust, I might have believed you.
The people we care for aren't always the one we should
How long will you keep me?" I asked. You shrugged. "Forever, of course.
Nothing. My father is very good at doing nothing. He calls it thinking.
The only way that someone can be of help to you is by challenging your ideas.
I'm more relaxed about how the editing process will create a performance and that, in a way, gives me a sense of freedom.
I definitely feel like when I write a book it's not my job to police or guide the readers. The book and the characters don't belong to me anymore. If that makes sense.