“Words sometimes tumble out before I can self-edit.”

“Sometimes words come out of me and I don't know where they come from or why. They're like falling stars tumbling through the universe; bright, burning things that can't be stopped.”

“If that isn't a declaration of love, I don't know what is. And the words tumble out of me—a dam breached.”

“I have officially decided that I will document every word I say. Not for the reason that I need to remember them, but for the fact that I can edit the words later.”

“While writing the first draft is an exercise in shutting down all of the things we think we know so that the story features come tumbling out, the revision is the end of the joy ride. We pull on the gloves and sort of poke around inside the body. Is that a tumor? Will that limb need amputation? I nearly second-guessed myself into heart failure while learning to self-edit.”

“Sometimes I'm so deeply buried under self-reproaches that I long for a word of comfort to help me dig myself out again.”