There's a market for mysteries for adults. That feeling of opening a book and delving inside and not coming out until you've closed the book.

Everyone has a book inside of them - but it doesn't do any good until you pry it out.

As the boat drew nearer to shore, and tiny dots in the distance became seagulls, she opened the book across her lap and gazed at the beautiful black-and-white sketch of a woman and a deer side by side in the clearing of a thorny forest. And somehow, though she could not read the words, the little girl realized the she knew this picture's tale. Of a young princess who traveled a great distance across the sea to find a precious, hidden item belonging to someone she dearly loved.

I'd pretty much given up hope of being published, so I just wrote the book I wanted to read.

It was not so much that he was shut out, but that she was trapped inside.

After school, I'd hang out at the Borders bookstore until it closed.