So, here’s the thing about me: I like to write stories that make me feel good.
The world can be pretty depressing (more so when I consider just how many people use Fox News as their primary news source), and so I use fiction as a way to shrug off all the crappiness of The Real World and remind myself that life can actually be rather awesome sometimes. And people, when you get down to it, are basically good and decent and really just doing the best they can. (Though my feelings on this matter do tend to fluctuate depending on how much sleep I’ve had and how much time I’m forced to spend on Chicago public transportation.)
Anyway, because I want to feel good when I’m writing, I don’t tend to write about dark, troubled characters who slowly destroy themselves and all they love in a magnificent spiral of angst and tragedy and drugs-rape-horror-death-death-death. Not to knock that kind of story – there are some amazing, incredibly well-done books out there that showcase the darker side of humanity – but I’m just sayin’, it’s not my thing.
So, if you are considering reading my books, do keep in mind that my intention in writing them was to create something that people can read and feel good about, the way other, far more awesome authors – Diana Wynne Jones, Terry Pratchett, etc. – make me feel good when I read their stories.
If you prefer the gritty, edgy stuff, that’s completely okay. We can still be friends. You may just wish to avoid my stories, or save them for when you’re in the mood for something a bit fluffy but also kind of deep, like a swimming pool full of marshmallows~~
So, with that said, I thank you for your attention, and will now go back to my wild weekend of boiling parsnips and watching All In the Family. I will also state that I’m turning another year older tomorrow, and will thus be consuming a heroic amount of chocolate this evening in an attempt to ignore my rapidly advancing age. Should anyone have any spare chocolate that they would like to donate to a worthy cause, please do send it my way.