I sold my very first novel when I was 24 or 25 years old.

I always had this non-stop drive. I had to keep sending stories out and every once in awhile I'd get something accepted or get the little trickle of positive feedback.

Each book will have a lot of cliffhangers, because I like that.

A moment of consideration often prevents a thousand apologies

Every spare second I would write, somehow. On my lunch hour, too.

Over the years, I've trained myself to speak using the same language I would use if I were typing: meaning using full sentences in the way that paragraphs and scenes are arranged.

My dad is a bank president and my mom was an accountant and they didn't think that seeking the life of a freelance writer was very practical, you see. Of course, I was just as determined to do it.

If you had an alien race that looked like insects, then they would build robots to look like themselves, not to look like people.

The real key is time management and being able to focus on what you need to, on using every available minute to accomplish something that needs to be done.

One of the things that was kind of shocking for humans... was to come to terms with was the fact that, hey, we may not be the center of the universe.

Wouldn't you like to have an augmented memory chip that you could plug into your head so you don't have to look everything up and remember everything?

Guilt: the gift that keeps on giving.

The "Wet Tongue Gets Stuck To A Frozen Flagpole" attack!

I think hearts are very much like glasses. If they do not break with the first ring, they usually last a considerable time.

What we learn from experience depends on the kind of philosophy we bring to experience.

Military simulation is an important way of training people for an emergency

Whoever had decided that school should start so early in the morning and last all day long needed to be hunted down and forced to watch hours of educational televison without the aid of caffine.

The image of the woman as we know it is an image created by men and fashioned to suit their needs.

If I'm dead," he murmured. "Why does it hurt so much?

Contemplative living is living in true relationship with oneself, God, others and nature, free of the illusions of separateness.