I Wanted To Write A Horror Story.

You Can't Tell People How To Feel When They Read Your Work. You Can Only Hope To Connect.

I Can't Understand How People Can Settle For Having Just One Life. I Remember We Were In English Class And We Were Talking About That Poem By - That One Guy. David Frost. 'two Roads Diverged In A Yellow Wood-' You Know This Poem, Right? 'two Roads Diverged In A Yellow Wood, And Sorry I Could Not Travel Both And Be One Traveler, Long I Stood And Looked Down One As Far As I Could, To Where It Bent In The Undergrowth-" "i Loved That Poem. But I Remember Thinking To Myself: Why? How Come You Can't Travel Both? That Seemed Really Unfair To Me.

The Earliest Impetuses For Writing, For Me, Were Simply The Strange Things I Happened To Notice In My Everyday Life, Stuff I Read About In The Grocery Store Tabloids My Mom Bought, Situations That Struck Me As Compelling, Anecdotes I'd Heard, Images, Words, Metaphors.

I Knew I Wanted To Play Around With Genre-esque Imagery, And The Identity Theft Stuff Came In The Middle, When I Was Figuring Out How The Characters Were Connected To Those Images.

I Don't Think Anybody Deals Well With Tragedy Or Grief, But Maybe My Characters Are Particularly Bad At It. Which Is Why I Love Them.