Love comes in far more shapes and sizes than what the family-values crowd condones, of course.

Love is like breathing. You take it in and let it out.

However far fiction writers stray from their own lives and experiences-and I stray pretty far from mine-I think, ultimately, that we may be writing what we need to write in some way, albeit unconsciously.

We see compulsive gamblers of all sizes and shapes.

I thought about how love was always the thing that did that - smashed into you, left you raw. The deeper you loved, the deeper it hurt.

However far fiction writers stray from their own lives and experiences - and I stray pretty far from mine - I think, ultimately, that we may be writing what we need to write in some way, albeit unconsciously.