I am a writer, but I don't write romance.
I say it's because I have no experience with love, but is that true?
Is romantic love that much different from love for your hard-working mother, or your darling little sisters, or for the night sky just before the snow falls gently over everything in beautiful, perfect silence?
But when I try to pluck up the courage to write a romance, I always end up stopping,
because I'm scared I'll make a girl love a boy the way I love the clear, cold winter sky in Georgia flecked with millions of silvery stars
and that it won't be right.
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