It’s the think, that they instilled in me, the idea that Christmas isn’t about toys or gifts – it never has been.
There are several reasons I love writing epilogues. Here are just a few.
I don’t have blind faith in myself. I’ve failed and changed course far too many times for that. But I have to believe, have to assume, that I am going to make it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even try.
I have been given a lot of advice. And while a great deal of it has been good (and, naturally, a great deal has been truly terrible as well,) nothing has yet come to claim the crown as these simple words from my grandfather.
What do I do when I’m not writing? The things that will inspire me. The things that make me happy.
I do not have a half-naked Greek Goddess of muse and inspiration lying across my bed. Inspiration doesn’t work like that.
Because no matter what we write, we must give some of ourselves over the story, to the writing, to the characters, the sacrifice every writer must make to get it right.