Though Lexington is not a small town, it sometimes feels like one, with circles of acquaintance overlapping once, then again; the person you meet by chance at the library or the pool may turn out to be the best friend of your down-the-street neighbor. Maybe that's why people are so friendly here, so willing to be unhurried.

Writing is always a process of discovery – I never know the end, or even the events on the next page, until they happen. There’s a constant interplay between the imagining and shaping of the story.

The challenges in this place are real and sometimes very difficult, but I’ve learned to slow down and look for beauty in my days, for the mysteries and blessings woven into everything, into the very words we speak.

This is what he knew that Paul didn’t: the world was precarious and sometimes cruel. He’d had to fight hard to achieve what Paul simply took for granted.

I’ve been accused of trying too hard to rescue people.

The thing is, I used to like that: feeling special because I knew something no one else did. It’s a kind of power, isn’t it, knowing a secret? But lately I don’t like it so much, knowing this. It’s not really mine to know, is it?

You can’t spend the rest of your life tiptoeing around to try and avert disaster. It won’t work. You’ll just end up missing the life you have.

Now that he was in school, he had his own life. He no longer liked to site and cuddle with her unless he was sick or wanted her to read him a story before bed.

It wasn’t right. He knew that, but it was like falling: once you started you couldn’t stop until something stopped you.

Do what you love, and the money will follow.