Here I am, where I ought to be. A writer must have a place where he or she feels this, a place to love and be irritated with.
“There was a time when the music fell silent. Both within me and around me.”
“I stuck with that size because I could bend the strings so well, and somewhere along the line I must have gotten it into my mind that I had small hands, so I was thinking I'd never be able to play a full-scale guitar, but I also felt like I was cheating or cutting corners.”