Few things make me question what I value more than a mountain of flame encroaching on my neighborhood.

Ah, typos. So easily overlooked by the writer. So easily spotted by the reader.

Ah, the dreaded movie sequel, fodder for the critic's rant.

My first novel's been out for a couple months, and it's safe to say: the honeymoon's over.

Among the spectrum of artistic endeavors, few are more esteemed than the established voice.

I’ve always had the feeling that I read slower than most people. There were clues…