And that’s when I realize that, at the end, we’d all wish for the same thing. Just a little more time.
"All it takes is one generation to brainwash a population and convince them that reality doesn't exist.”- Prodigy
Tell me there is still good in the world. Tell me there is still hope for all of us.
Time heals all wounds. But not this one. Not yet.
We determine whether a book is for boys or girls long before the reader gets a chance to decide: we package them with soldiers and ballet slippers on their covers, war machines and glittering gowns.
I am a hopeless pantser, so I don't do much outlining. A thought will occur to me, and I'll just throw it into the story. I tell myself I'll worry about untangling it later. I'm glad no one sees my first drafts except for my poor editor and agent.
