For A Short Time, I Hated Them.

I Would Rather Raise Certain Topics And Maybe Let You Ruminate On Them. I'm Not Big On Answering Them.

Summer Romances Cometo An End. That Was Part Of The Deal. They Are Built Like Certain Plants Or Insects, Not Able To Survive More Than One Season. I Thought We Would Be Different. We Were, I Guess, But Not In The Way I Thought. I Truly Believed That We Would Never Let Each Other Go. The Young Are So Dumb.

I Remember One Time I Heard This English Professor Asking The Class What The World's Scariest Noise Is. Is It A Man Crying Out In Pain? A Woman's Scream Of Terror? A Gunshot? A Baby Crying? And The Professor Shakes His Head And Says, 'no, The Scariest Noise Is, You're All Alone In Your Dark House, You Know You're All Alone, You Know That There Is No Chance Anyone Else Is Home Or Within Miles—and Then, Suddenly, From Upstairs, You Hear The Toilet Flush.

No, I Don’t Live In Heartache. I Don’t Cry Myself To Sleep Or Any Of That. I Am, I Tell Myself, Over It. But I Do Feel A Void, Icky As That Sounds. And—like It Or Not—i Still Think About Her Every Single Day.

I Am Very Lucky That I Get To Tell Stories For A Living. I Love Being Able To Grab People's Attention, To Keep Them Turning The Pages, To Make Them Stay Awake All Night. I Want To Stir The Pulse, Yes, But Also To Stir The Heart. I Hope 'the Woods' Does That.