I've Subsequently Become Conscious Of Making Memories.

Some People Just Make Me Feel Mentally Endangered. Whatever Dark Stuff Is Going On In Their Head, It's Coming At Me And I Need To Escape.

I Am Simply Looking For A Companion With Whom To Spend My Days, A Companion Who Will Cherish As Much As I The Stupidity Of Living In The Moment, And Spend Every Dull, Amazing Second With Me.

When I Was Writing My First Draft, And Feeling Grandiose, I E-mailed An Artist/clothing Designer I Know And Suggested We Collaborate On A Fashion Line Inspired By The Outfits My Characters Wore. I Regret That We Never Did That.

I Don't Usually Read My Reviews. I've Noticed Older Reviewers Are Much More Bothered By The Plot Complications. Younger Reviews Don't Seem To Be Bothered By The Complications At All.

When My Husband First Read A Draft, He Said, "you Spend Too Much Time Describing The Characters' Outfits." He Was Right. I Removed Much Of The Clothes Talk, But Quite A Bit Remained.