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Here I am, just wandering down a deserted street in the middle of the night. I hope I don't run into any trouble. Goodness, that would just ruin my whole evening. I strolled and hummed, trying to project Innocent Victim.

MaryJanice Davidson

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MaryJanice Davidson
Age: 55
Born: 1969
Born: August 1
Author
Novelist
Writer
Would
Streets
Ruins
Trouble
Project
Middle
Evening
Strolled
Hope
Innocent
Hummed
Running
Victim
Deserted
Night
Street
Wandering
Whole
Goodness
Ruin
Trying
Projects
Wander

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All writers are crazy. So never mind what the editors and your family and your critique group tells you. Submit your manuscripts and keep submitting until you get an offer. Then you can be crazy, with a paycheck.
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... friends are such a mixed blessing.
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I've always assumed he'd be around to be, you know, yelled at and taken for granted. And of course I was wrong. Nobody's going to put up with that forever.
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It never failed—I'd buy a new journal, write like a madwoman for ten pages, then lose total interest in the process. Three months later, I'd start the whole process all over again. I think I just liked buying new notebooks.
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We have souls. Sure we do. Otherwise we'd do bad things all the time. You know, like politicians.
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Majesty, I beg your forgiveness for the idignity you suffered and offer you the head of our enemy as— Put that thing down, I said impatiently. I can't talk to you when you're shaking his head like a damned maraca.
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Did vampirism encourage Stockholm syndrome?
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My my Laura Goodman. I must say that is a charming name for a charming young lady. Eric's old. I broke in. Really really old. Er— really? Laura asked. Gosh you don't look even out of your thirties. Tons of face-lifts. He's a surgical addict. I'm trying to get him help. I added defensively when they both gave me strange looks.
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Kissing Sinclair was like making out with a sexy timber wolf— he was licking my fangs and nipping me lightly and growling under his breath and it was...oh, it was really something.
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Can you burn me up with holy water? Poke me to death with your crucifix? Pelt me with communion wafers?
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They weren't moving. Perhaps I was dazzling then with my ineptitude. It had happened before.
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I zoomed in on the shoe department like a blonde homing pigeon. Shoes, shoes everywhere! Ah, sweet shoes. I truly think you can take the measure of a civilization by looking at its footwear.
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Wow, girlfriend, you're incompatible with life! And here I thought I was just incompatible with pink.
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You have attained maturity display it for us, if you please.
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