I try to write about real women, real people – in other words flawed characters.
Well, shoes, bags and clutches are usually my big weaknesses – my husband always laughs when I call them ’investment pieces.
A theme in a lot of my books – and in my own life – is making choices that you feel you should make, or what society wants you to make, as opposed to what is truly right for you.
Inevitably I draw on my own relationships when I write, so if I’m writing about a fight between a husband and his wife, of course I’m going to think about a recent fight with my husband. Or if I’m writing about sisters, of course I’m going to think about my sister.
Often I feel that projects overwhelm us when we look at how many hours are involved until completion. But just getting started is usually not that difficult.
There are people and places and events you’d prefer to forget or at least gloss over. In the end, you can slap a pretty label on it – like serendipity or fate. Or you can believe that it’s just the random way life unfolds.
The best reason to pray is that God is really there. In praying our unbelief starts to melt. God moves smack into the middle of even an ordinary day.
You can run but you can’t hide.
But now I can see that there is redemption and beauty in an accident emanating from love.
Whats not to love is hardly a reason to love. And the catch of your life is not the same thing as the love of your life. Be careful of that subtle but rather crucial distinction.
Throw in the intensity of emotions that come with that bittersweet summer sandwiched between high school graduation and the rest of your life...
My name is Kirby Rose, and I’m adopted. I don’t mean to make it sound like an AA confession, although sometimes that’s how people take it, like it’s something they should be supportive about. I just mean that they are two basic facts about me.
Even if we no longer have much in common, we would have always had the past, which, in some ways, is just as important as the present or future. It is where we come from, what makes us who we are.
I had never understood what people meant when they said they’d rather be alone if they couldn’t be in the right relationship. Now I got it.
She wonders what fool ever said that it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all – she has never disagreed with something so much.
I’ve always been intrigued by the power of secrets. When is it justifiable to keep them from the ones we love? And does keeping them irrevocably change who we are?
Really-nothing is unforgivable if you truly love someone.
Where we belong is often where we least expect to find ourselves – a place that we may have willed ourselves to forget, but that the heart remembers forever.
There are two kinds of sorry. There is the sorry imbued with regret. And a pure sorry. The kind that is merely asking for forgiveness, nothing more.
It’s simply human nature to have an occasional, fleeting interest in someone whom you once loved.